Trojan Horse
by Kodiak Bear Country
Summary: The Hoffans contact Atlantis, wanting to renew their relationship and prove that the vaccine has been perfected, and had the desired effect. The problem is they aren't telling the truth. Set in season two, between Intruder and Runner.[COMPLETE]
1. 1

**Trojan Horse**

By M.N. Talbert

**Prologue**

Sheppard struggled for air. His head was covered in some kind of dark sack, making it impossible to see, and difficult to breathe. He fought against the arms holding his, but the captors held him firm. "Let go!" he shouted, but even as he said it, he knew it was pointless. Whoever planned this abduction had been prepared. He was isolated, alone, and there wasn't anyone near to offer rescue.

He knew it was more than one, though he hadn't seen who it was. They'd come up behind him, when he was out walking. He had been grabbed, and his head covered, in one fluid motion. He'd tried to fight back, but all he had to show for it, or would show, were bruises from the tight grip they had on his upper arms. His legs were free, and he was focusing now on doing as much damage as he could by kicking wildly at the bodies that were on each side, and behind.

He heard a sharp intake from the pain of a blow as his boot connected to some part of one of the attackers. He felt other feet tangle in his own, and he lost his balance. He was taken to the ground in a controlled fall. They wanted him down, and immobile. "Son of a bitch!" cursed Sheppard.

He felt his jacket being yanked enough to expose his shoulder. Their intent was clear, and he fought harder. The cold wet swab heralded the incoming needle, and the sting betrayed the injection of a drug. "What…" Sheppard tried to ask, but before he could finish, he felt a wave of lethargy pass through his veins. Instead of his original question he stuttered, "Wh…why?" He didn't know why they were doing this. There was no answer, and he couldn't resist the effects of the sedative. His eyes drifted shut, unbidden, and unwanted. His muscles slackened, and he felt his body being lifted before his last remnants of consciousness vanished.

**1.**

"Colonel," called Doctor Rodney McKay, striding into the guest quarters that the Hoffans had provided. "When they said you could take your time, I don't think they meant take the entire day." McKay stopped abruptly, the quiet sinking into his awareness. "Colonel?" he called again, this time uncertain.

He scanned the area, and noticed the room was dark, lights off. The bed was neatly made. He stepped towards the chair where Sheppard's pack was sitting, and reached for the strap, fingering the nylon material, while processing the fact that Sheppard wasn't in his room. His P-90 was propped against the chair, on the floor. McKay let go of the strap, and pushed his comm, "Teyla, have you seen Sheppard?"

He heard the audible click that signaled Teyla's presence on the other end, before she spoke, "No, I have not. I thought he was meeting with you and the Chancellor?"

"Yeah, so did I," answered McKay.

"Doctor?" came Teyla's confused reply.

"Meet me in the Chancellor's office," he said. He saw the Colonel's radio on the table beside the bed. "I think we've got a problem." He cut her off, and stared for another moment at the discarded earpiece. Sheppard wouldn't have left it behind. Something was wrong, and he hated it when things were wrong. "What happened to you now?" McKay muttered, before stepping out of the room, and pulling the door shut behind him.

* * *

"Chancellor, Colonel Sheppard wouldn't have left without his radio," protested McKay. He was in the Chancellor's office, surprised at how little had changed in the year since they'd last been here. It hadn't exactly been on good terms. They'd told the Hoffans they wouldn't be back. "If you are unwilling to look for him," continued McKay, "I'll contact my people, and _we'll_ look for him. Do you want a bunch of armed soldiers tearing your city apart, or will you help?" McKay wasn't giving him an option. It had been worded as a question, but Chancellor Druhin knew it to be the threat that it was.

McKay had rendezvoused with Teyla short of Druhin's office. He'd explained Sheppard's absence, before meeting with the Chancellor. They'd asked Druhin if any of his people knew of the Colonel's whereabouts, and the Chancellor had said no one had seen Sheppard. McKay smelled something fishy, and it wasn't dinner. This whole mission had stunk of something wrong. The Hoffans had contacted them, and claimed their vaccine had been a success. Claimed they'd managed to reduce the mortality rate, and the Wraith had shown up, only to leave when they began to die every time they tried to feed on a Hoffan.

They had offered to meet with Sheppard's team, and show the results, letting it speak for itself. Chancellor Druhin had claimed to have video footage of the Wraith's attack and retreat. Atlantis had barely survived against the three Hive ships. Everyone knew things would get worse; it was only a matter of time. They had a ZPM now, but the other worlds didn't, and Atlantis couldn't provide sanctuary for a galaxy full of people. Elizabeth and Sheppard had argued against reopening relations, but Caldwell had overridden them, and here they were, and now Sheppard was missing.

McKay saw, with a spike of satisfaction, that his words had the desired impact. Chancellor Druhin paled, and ran his fingers nervously over the surface of his desk. "That's not necessary, Doctor McKay," he assured. His white beard twitched. "I'll order our people to conduct a search," he studied Teyla surreptitiously. "Do you know where he was the last time you saw him?"

"I left Colonel Sheppard in his room," answered Teyla. "He said he was tired, and wanted to rest before meeting with you and Doctor McKay."

Teyla didn't want to admit the real reason Sheppard had remained behind was to do some reconnaissance on the Hoffans. None of them trusted these people, not after what they'd done. The Hoffans had used their help to further their own agenda, and to hell with the cost. Beckett had spent many nights on the balcony after that last mission, trying to find it within himself to forgive the part he had played in what amounted to mass genocide. Fifty percent of a population, killed. And he'd helped craft the means for it. Everyone had taken a turn at consoling the Scotsman, including Teyla, Sheppard and Doctor McKay.

"I see," and it was obvious to everyone that Chancellor Druhin did see. "You understand, that will make it more difficult."

McKay jerked his head impatiently. "Just look," he said.

Druhin stood, and walked over to the door, pulling it open. "We will let you know if we find anything," he said, dismissing them.

McKay frowned, wondering if maybe he should have said he was going to bring over a team from Atlantis after all. If Druhin was involved, this could be bad. "We'll inform our leader's of the Colonel's situation," McKay said pointedly. He headed for the exit, Teyla behind him, but he paused at the threshold. "If anything happens to Colonel Sheppard, I will personally hold you responsible." He spoke quietly, the threat vibrated between the two individuals.

Druhin stared back impassively, but McKay could see telltale signs that he was slightly shaken by his resolve. Druhin sensed that he meant what he'd said. This wasn't the McKay from the first visit. Everyone in Atlantis had been through too much to be the same as back then. Too many people had died, friends _and_ enemies. McKay wasn't about to sit back and watch another one be taken from him. Grodin's death was too fresh. That time he'd sat back and watched. He'd done nothing, and Peter had been blasted into particles in front of his eyes. If Druhin thought he'd let him get away with harming one hair on Sheppard's head, he was greatly mislead.

"Good day, Chancellor," finished Teyla. They walked out the door, and headed towards the gate. It was time to let Doctor Weir and Caldwell know.

* * *

"And you think the Hoffans are responsible for Sheppard's disappearance?" Colonel Caldwell asked.

McKay peered into the MALP's camera lens, knowing his image was being sent through the wormhole, to Elizabeth and Caldwell, standing in the command center. "Of course, we told you this was a bad idea," he said. There wasn't any trace of the smug satisfaction of being right, just anger, because he _had _been right, and Sheppard had been right, and now Sheppard was gone.

"Doctor McKay, I'll let that slide because Sheppard is your friend, but in the future, you'd do well to remember who is in charge now," the steely message came through loud and clear.

The only sign of McKay's irritation was the tightening of his jaw. Since Caldwell had assumed command, everyone had tried to adjust to the change in leadership. Gone were the days of speaking freely that had lived under Doctor Weir's command.

"Has the Chancellor been notified?" continued Caldwell.

"Do you think…" started McKay, before biting back his sarcastic retort. He took a deep breath, and tried again. "Yes, Colonel. He was the _first _person we notified." The veiled jab that they hadn't run to _him_ probably wasn't lost on the Colonel.

"I see, in that case keep us informed, Caldwell out."

The connection was severed when the wormhole disengaged. McKay had a momentary pang of regret. True, Caldwell was a hard-assed military man, but McKay knew most of the expedition wasn't giving him a fair shake. There were a lot of hard feelings over the change of command.

He looked away from the MALP, disgusted, and noticed Teyla watching him with disapproval. "What?" he snapped defensively.

She didn't say anything, instead turned back the way they'd come, but she didn't have to say anything. McKay was certain there was an appropriate four-letter word for this situation, but he supposed it wouldn't make him feel any better if he used it. Then again…

* * *

Sheppard shook his head vigorously, trying to rid his mind of the stringy cobwebs that muddled his thoughts. He was sitting in a chair, and his arms and legs were shackled firmly to the wooden slats. He tugged as much as his skin could withstand before abandoning the attempt at loosening the bonds.

At least the hood over his head was gone. He didn't know how long he'd been out, but he'd come to, sitting in this chair. He was in a windowless room. It wasn't cold or hot, and maybe it was a concession on their part to his needs because his jacket was gone and he'd been left in his black uniform t-shirt and pants. His boots were also missing. He wished he'd worn his socks.

His head felt sluggish, aftereffects of the drug they'd used. What he didn't know was why. Why were they doing this? Sure, they had their doubts about the Hoffans ethics, but they hadn't struck him as being as homicidal and cold as the Genii had been.

It was hard to track the passage of time, but he had been awake for at least an hour, maybe two, and still no one had come to see him. It couldn't be an interrogation, could it? That didn't make sense. They had been open about their technology when they'd been here before. Ransom? Hold him in exchange for more help? But that didn't mesh either, because they'd claimed they'd fine-tuned the virus on their own.

A noise drew his attention to the wall on his right. There was a door there, though it was hard to make out in the dim lighting. It clanged again, before being swung inwards. A man he didn't recognize walked in, carrying a briefcase. Two guards followed him in; at least Sheppard assumed they were guards. They were dressed in uniforms, and had what looked like weapons in their hands.

"You know, I have to admit, I preferred my other room," said Sheppard. He didn't want to let them know how worried he was becoming. Be the first one to speak, let them know he wasn't going to be easily intimidated.

The man smiled enigmatically. "Major Sheppard…or rather _Colonel_ Sheppard," he said, emphasizing the change in rank. "Congratulations, by the way."

Sheppard grimaced, before replying, "Thanks."

"Such an occasion must be celebrated, wouldn't you say, Colonel?" The man set his briefcase on a table that was just out of reach of his chair, and opened the lid, withdrawing a vial containing liquid.

Sheppard squirmed; he did not want to be injected with whatever that was, and he had a sneaking suspicion that was exactly what their goal was. "What is that for?" he asked, letting his eyes fall on the vial.

The guards took up a stance on either side of his chair. Sheppard watched them uneasily. This was not looking good. The man was middle-aged, non-descript. He could be anybody, and nobody. He was the man you couldn't remember when asked hours later. His face was average, plain. His hair was your standard brown, with graying on the edges; his nose was average – not too big, not too small. Everything about the man screamed unremarkable.

"That, Colonel Sheppard, is the Galaxies salvation," stated the man, and his eyes gleamed wickedly in a manner that was anything but unremarkable. The door clanged shut, causing him to jerk involuntarily in the chair, and as it closed, he steadied his nerves. For the first time since his abduction, he began to fear what would happen when he did get out of here.

* * *

"Doctor McKay, Colonel Sheppard has been found!"

McKay stopped pacing, and looked at the man, surprised and relieved at the same time. Sheppard had been missing for almost eighteen hours. In that time, McKay had begun to worry that they wouldn't get him back. He worried about what was being done to Sheppard. Who had taken him, and where? If it were a Hoffan conspiracy, he knew the chances of getting Sheppard back were slim to none.

"Is he okay?" he asked. He was almost afraid to hear the answer. But the messenger didn't look like he was the bearer of bad news.

"He is unconscious, but appears well," the man replied, and indicated for McKay to follow him.

McKay hesitated. When he and Teyla had tried to join the search, the Hoffan authorities had claimed that whomever had kidnapped Sheppard might try for them as well, and they should remain in the safety of the government building. Was this a ploy to get him alone, and kidnap him as well?

"Just a second," McKay said. He tapped the earpiece. "Teyla, they've found Sheppard. I'm going there now, contact Atlantis and have Beckett standing by."

He leveled his gaze on the man, who shrugged, and led McKay into the hall. They went down two stories, and came out into the bright sunlight of a Hoffan mid-day. Sheppard's disappearance had been discovered when he'd been late for the diplomatic dinner. It was now noon. They crossed the street and entered another building; this was the hospital. McKay recognized it from their previous trip, and he couldn't stop the unwanted shiver from sliding down his spine.

Sure enough, he was led to a hospital bed on the first floor, and was surprised to see a pale Sheppard sitting up, awake if not exactly alert. Aside from his color, McKay couldn't see any obvious injury. He was wearing his uniform, even the outer jacket and boots, which looked out of place with him lying on the bed.

"Colonel?" McKay said apprehensively. He wasn't sure what else to say, not until Sheppard said something first.

Sheppard looked at McKay, and narrowed his eyes, confused. "How did I get here?" he asked McKay.

McKay wasn't normally at a loss for words, but he hadn't expected that. He didn't know what he expected, but this wasn't it. "You don't remember?"

"No," Sheppard replied, and McKay could hear the edges of panic. "I remember gating here, and then…nothing," he finished, frustrated.

McKay figured the best thing was to get him back to Beckett, back to Atlantis, and away from here. He didn't trust the Hoffans, and he had a lot of questions, but right now, Sheppard's health came first. "Can you walk?" McKay asked.

Sheppard nodded, then added, "I think."

McKay moved to his side, and offered a hand, but Sheppard pushed it away. "I see you're still stubborn to the point of…" he trailed off as Sheppard climbed to his feet and swayed. McKay steadied him, and finished, "falling on your face."

"Shut up, McKay," retorted Sheppard, but he didn't remove McKay's support.

"Some things never change," muttered McKay, hefting the Colonel's arm over his shoulder. "Let's go; Teyla's waiting."


	2. 2

AN: First, thank you for the reviews! This story is set in early season two, and as such we haven't seen anything of the character Caldwell. In using him, I'm taking some interpertations of what he may be like, so take it for what it's worth. I'm also going with the assumption that Weir is no longer in 'command' but retains her position, just without the final say-so. Also, this is a Atlantis-centric fic, meaning all the characters are featured and it's not just from one character's POV. This will probably resemble an episode more than anything (at least I hope)!**  
**

**2.**

"The last thing you remember is leaving Atlantis?" clarified Beckett. He wanted to be certain he had his facts straight.

Sheppard was sitting on a gurney in the infirmary, stripped back down to his t-shirt and pants. "That's about it. I walked into the gate, and next thing I know I'm staring up at a Hoffan doctor asking me if I'm all right."

Beckett scribbled some notes, frowned, and set the clipboard down. He pulled the blood pressure cuff off the wall fixture that it hung on, and strapped it on the Colonel's arm, his hand hovering over Sheppard's arm when the man flinched. "Did that hurt?"

Sheppard shook his head. "No, just, startled me," he explained.

Beckett didn't say anything, but he made a mental note that Sheppard seemed unusually jumpy since his return. He pumped the cuff, and frowned again at the readings. "Bit high," he murmured, more to himself than anything, but Sheppard looked alarmed.

"It's okay," assured Beckett. "I'd say it's a normal reaction to being kidnapped, and returned without your memory intact."

Sheppard didn't seem mollified, but he didn't say anything.

"Any other symptoms other than memory loss?"

Beckett watched his patient carefully, looking for signs of hesitation, or half-truths. Sheppard tended to internalize his feelings, and that included physical as well as mental. He could be hurting a lot, and still brush it off as nothing important.

Sheppard felt like a bug under a microscope. "Tired," he answered reluctantly.

"Aye," Beckett nodded, pleased because he'd admitted to the obvious. "I found some bruising around what looks like an injection site. I'm running some blood tests," Beckett paused and touched the area on Sheppard's shoulder so he could see for himself where the site was, "but my guess is anything used is probably metabolized out of your system already."

"They drugged me?" Sheppard asked. He was surprised, but he didn't know why. Every civilization had their dirty secrets. Maybe he'd found theirs. But why had they let him go if that was the case?

Beckett nodded, and removed the cuff from Sheppard's arm, stuffing it back in the holder. He folded his arms, and regarded the Colonel; not liking what he knew would be the reaction. "I'll need you to stay overnight," he said.

Sheppard's face changed from puzzled to annoyed, "I'd rather not."

That elicited a soft chuckle from the Doctor. "I'm sure you wouldn't, but until I have all the results back, I need to keep an eye on you."

"Great," said Sheppard, knowing that Beckett was right, but it didn't make him any happier. He had an intense need to escape to his quarters, and find some privacy. He couldn't explain it, but it was there. Maybe he just needed to be around his own things, and know that whatever had happened, he'd made it back home, and was safe. He wasn't going to admit that to anyone, though. It wasn't his nature.

Beckett patted his arm with understanding. Sheppard didn't have to explain; Beckett was a lot smarter than anyone gave him credit for. "Get into the scrubs, I'll have Rodney bring you a laptop to keep you busy."

Sheppard looked over to the folded infirmary clothes. It could be worse, he supposed. "Fine, but make sure he brings the one with space invaders loaded," he said, reaching for the article of clothing.

Beckett waved a hand as he walked away, showing Sheppard that he'd heard him. Sheppard sighed, and slid off the bed, the shirt of the burgundy scrubs in one hand, and he drew the privacy curtain shut with his other hand. He realized he had to put the top back down, in order to get out of his own clothes.

He tossed it back on to the gurney, and tugged his t-shirt over his head, letting it drop to the floor. He unbuckled his belt, and began to slide the pants off, and when he did so, he saw a vial fall out of his pocket. He picked it up, squinting at the object. He knew what this was…didn't he? He was about to call out for Beckett, when something distracted him, and he palmed the vial, sliding it back into his side pocket, before picking up the discarded uniform and folding them into a roll. He slid into the scrubs, and didn't give the vial another thought.

* * *

"And you're certain that he's okay?" asked Elizabeth. She was sitting beside Teyla, and across from Beckett. Caldwell sat at the apex of the curved table.

Beckett didn't look certain, quite the opposite. "I can't say for sure, but physically he's tired, suffering memory loss, jumpy," he paused and glanced at his notes. He was trying to figure out how to phrase his concerns in a way that wouldn't cause undue alarm. "What I'm trying to say, is from everything we can tell, Colonel Sheppard will be fine." The words he left unspoken were the things they couldn't tell. A lot could be done to a body that wouldn't show externally.

Caldwell knew, though, Beckett could tell. The stern Colonel had his hands folded, and he was feigning aloofness by concentrating on a loose cuticle. Beckett didn't think anyone at the table bought the act.

Caldwell pierced Beckett with a pair of deep blue eyes, when he looked away from his hands. "Is that a guarded estimate, Doctor Beckett?"

"Yes," admitted Beckett reluctantly. "I'm keeping him for observation."

Elizabeth felt temporarily at a loss. The undercurrents flowing between Caldwell and Beckett were tangible. She knew there was resentment, but she needed her…_his_…people to maintain professionalism, and focus on the issue at hand. "How soon till you can say for certain?"

"Twenty-four hours," Beckett replied, closing Sheppard's chart.

Teyla frowned, but she didn't say what was on her mind. Caldwell picked up on the subtle change. "Is there something you wish to add, Teyla?" he pressed.

Teyla looked reluctantly at Beckett, before looking back at Caldwell. She shifted in her chair, clearly uncomfortable. "Is that enough time to make sure they have not altered the Colonel in some manner?" she asked, admitting her fear. Sheppard had been gone for eighteen hours. Hours that he didn't remember, and there had to be a reason for his lack of memory.

Elizabeth nodded, having considered the same implication. "I agree. Could they have brainwashed him in that time? Maybe sent him back to sabotage the city?"

Beckett had thought about that, but from the brief training he'd had on the subject, it didn't seem likely. "Not unless they are more technologically advanced than we are, and we know that isn't true," he pointed out. "It takes days to program someone like Sheppard. He wouldn't convert without a lot of time, and there would be definite physical signs of the process."

Caldwell sided with Beckett. He'd been around this kind of thing in his past, and he knew from years of serving in the military that brainwashing wasn't accomplished in eighteen hours. "Doctor Beckett is right. They didn't have him long enough to program anything." He considered another thought. "Is it possible they injected him with a virus of some kind? Would that show?"

Beckett knew they weren't going to like his answer. "Not necessarily, viruses are tricky. Some, like the common cold, have short incubation periods and make themselves known immediately. Others, like HIV, could install themselves in a healthy cell, and coast until a trigger is received," he explained. He saw the dismayed reactions. "It's unlikely the Hoffans would do something like this," Beckett rushed on, trying to ease their concerns. "The vaccine they were using was not viral in nature; it behaved more like a bacterial infection. It wasn't contagious," he frowned. "Actually, it was more a combination of a virus and a bacteria; the point being, injecting the Colonel wouldn't cause it to spread when he was returned to us."

"So that wasn't their intent," Caldwell said. "Right?"

Teyla was growing impatient. "Does it matter their intent? They abducted the Colonel, and kept him, at the very least he was drugged. Should we not go back there and demand answers?"

Elizabeth watched Caldwell's reaction. She knew what she would say. She'd order a team back to Hoff, and hope that by placing pressure on the Chancellor, they could convince him to cooperate and reveal what had happened to Sheppard. But it wasn't her call, not anymore. She could advise, though. "If we sent back another team, they could…_encourage_…Chancellor Druhin to investigate."

Beckett stared slack-jawed at Elizabeth's implication, before stilling his surprise. It would seem everyone had been hardened by the past year. "I could use any help you can give. Bottom line, unless the Colonel remembers, it's unlikely we'll ever know what their goal was," he said. "At least, not until the trap is sprung," amended Beckett.

Caldwell came to a decision. "Do it. Make sure they stay together at all times, and stay armed and ready. We don't need anyone else to disappear without a trace," he ordered. "And Doctor Beckett, don't release Sheppard until so ordered, is that clear?"

Beckett was on the verge of protesting, but deep down, he knew it had to be done. They couldn't take the risk, and while the doctor side of him hated to do that to Sheppard, the growing military side within knew it was the right course of action. "Aye," he whispered unhappily. The meeting was over, leaving everyone with a sour taste.

As they filed out, Teyla asked Beckett if Sheppard was up for visitors. He told her not only was Sheppard up for visitors, but if she could entertain the Colonel for a while, the staff would probably be eternally grateful.

He watched Teyla leave, and turned to Elizabeth. "Encourage?" he repeated.

"_Gently_ encourage," she elaborated, unperturbed. She left for her office, and Beckett watched her go, not entirely convinced that all the changes were for the better.

* * *

Teyla stood at the base of the stairs, holding her weapon tensely, despite it being attached to her vest. She knew what they were going to do. Their mission was to find out what exactly had happened to Sheppard in those missing eighteen hours. If it was a conspiracy that spiraled all the way up the chain to the Chancellor himself, this could most likely be a very dangerous mission.

She'd visited Sheppard earlier, but had found him sleeping. She'd remained, watching him for a little while, before getting ready for the mission back to Hoff. He'd looked peaceful, and it had served to reassure her, but at the same time, cause a new level of concern deep inside. Something had happened to him, and she intended to find out.

She looked over at the four new marines, and she felt a sharp pang of regret that Lieutenant Ford was not here. She didn't know these men like she knew Ford, and Sheppard…even McKay, though he wasn't a soldier. McKay had asked to remain behind. Teyla knew he was keeping a close eye on Sheppard, though he wouldn't admit it. He kept finding reasons to stop by the infirmary. Beckett was supplying him with a lot of those reasons. She also knew it wasn't entirely selfish reasons for it. They were watching him like a lab experiment, noting every reaction, and watching for any sign that something wasn't right.

"Teyla, is your team ready?" Elizabeth called from the command console.

Teyla looked up, and returned her steady gaze, and gave a slight nod. "We are," she replied. The marines were new; green, Sheppard had called them. When she'd wondered about the reference he'd explained it meant their skills were untested in the field. Because they were _green_, Colonel Caldwell had ordered them to defer to Teyla's expertise in this mission. She'd been surprised. Everett had offered a modicum of respect, finally, but she doubted even he would have gone so far as to give her control of this mission. It was another peg in the conundrum that Caldwell was turning out to be.

Doctor Weir didn't verbally acknowledge her, but she gestured to the technician to dial the gate. Teyla looked away, remembering the face that should've been there. So many losses, she wasn't going to let Sheppard become another casualty.

They gated uneventfully to the planet, and were met by the Chancellor and one of his new aides. The last one had died from the vaccine. They adjourned to the Chancellor's office.

"Chancellor, we must know who was involved in the Colonel's abduction, and why he was taken," insisted Teyla. "Doctor Beckett has found evidence that he was drugged. This is a very serious offense."

The four marines stood erect behind the chair where Teyla sat, which was across from the Chancellor's thick wooden desk. The Chancellor as a wily man, a lesson they'd learned before. Sheppard had mistaken him for a kind older gentleman, harmless and not a danger. It was only at the end that Sheppard had realized the level of deviousness on the Chancellor's part. Sheppard had confided his concerns that he'd been less than truthful to the Hoffan council.

She had learned that Sheppard had promised to accept their vote; whether it was to use the vaccine, or not. It was only later he'd wondered if he should've insisted on being present during the meeting. He'd found it inconceivable that any people knowing the truth would vote to continue the inoculations. She tended to agree with Sheppard's conclusion, and so she wasn't mislead by the Chancellor's innocent act now.

"We are investigating his disappearance," he said gravely, but then Druhin's features morphed into what reminded Teyla of a wily old fox. "But I must tell you, we've uncovered some disturbing information."

She bristled at his manner. "And what would that be?"

Druhin stood from his seat, and perched himself on the corner of his desk, leaning in towards Teyla, and towering over her. It was an act of dominance. He was reminding her who was in charge. "It seems your Colonel Sheppard was not in his room when he went missing," he casually picked up a paperweight that resembled a crystallized bug, studied it in reflective silence, and set it down before continuing. "In fact, I was told he was in a restricted area."

Teyla looked at the crystallized bug and wondered if there wasn't a hidden significance in his actions. Was he trying to convey that Sheppard was the bug that they knew about? Did he get caught, and they interrogated him to find out what he knew? Or did he see something he shouldn't have, and they didn't want him telling anyone. She forced a patient smile, and replied sweetly. "I am quite certain the Colonel was unaware of the nature of the _area_, and was instead merely out walking to stretch his legs."

Druhin shrugged, and returned to his seat. "Be that as it may, the military has their own methods of handling…intruders," he explained. He opened a file that had been lying on the desk, and began to skim the contents; every action had a subtle message to be conveyed to the Atlanteans. "You understand, of course."

"No, I do not," stated Teyla, her voice now cold at the implications from Druhin. "Are you telling me that as Chancellor you have no control over your own people?"

That hurt him, she could tell. He let the paper slip from his fingers, to the surface, and regarded her angrily. "I am saying, Miss Emmagan, that my people do not take kindly to our offers of friendship being returned by espionage, and that your Colonel got whatever he deserved." The Chancellor's speech came across as rehearsed, if not stilted.

Teyla felt the marines tense behind her. The mistake, the Chancellor had made, was forgetting that Teyla had led her people for many years before the people from Earth had arrived and changed everything. She knew about politics, and intrigue. She had dealt with many other worlds, and brokered agreements and alliances. Chancellor Druhin wasn't anything she hadn't seen or met before. "I see," she replied. She stood, allowing him to believe the conversation was over. "Then I believe we are finished."

"I believe so," he agreed frostily. He'd returned to perusing his paper, and scarcely acknowledged her.

He hadn't mentioned the vaccine, or anything related to the message that had been sent initially, when he'd requested renewed contact between their people. She knew what that implied. This had been a set-up, and they'd accomplished their goal. Since the only thing that had happened was Sheppard's abduction and return, whatever it was, centered on him, and those missing eighteen hours.

Teyla gestured for the men to leave the room, and wait outside. They left, and shut the door. She turned on Druhin, and walked to the side of his desk, slapping the paper from his hands to the desktop, and stared at him with restrained anger. "Chancellor, I _will_ find out what you did to Colonel Sheppard, and when I do…"

Druhin lifted his paper, and tsked in a fatherly fashion. "When you do, you will do nothing," he began, but as he continued his voice rose in volume. "Your people are weak. Afraid to do what's necessary," he lifted his head, and returned her look, and Teyla was surprised by the suppressed fury. "Good Day, Miss Emmagan."

She stalked out, slamming the door behind her. Childish, but it felt good. She didn't even look to see if the marines were following her. _Damn it all to hell, _she thought angrily, because the Chancellor was right. Not that they were weak, but that they wouldn't do anything in retaliation. They had fought back only as much as needed with the Genii, and they'd let the Dagan's disappear with their only means of defense – it had been in their fingertips, and they'd walked away, respecting the Dagan's right to the ZPM. They could've returned with a force and taken it back, assuming they had time to find it again. But they didn't. It wasn't their way. _Damn them_, and this time she wasn't sure who she was damning.


	3. 3

**3.**

Sheppard was pissed. He wasn't exactly sure of the time because his memory of the trip to Hoff was gone, but by his reckoning, he'd been stuck in the infirmary for at least three days. Three days! Beckett had mentioned overnight observation, and he'd agreed, reluctantly, but not to three days, with no end in sight. Every time he brought up being released, Beckett had mentioned another test he needed to run.

Finally, when Sheppard had decided enough was enough, he was going to leave with or without permission, the guards showed up. He wasn't sure how Beckett knew, but Sheppard understood the message. He wasn't going anywhere. He alternated between playing space invaders, a game that wasn't exactly stimulating on a good day, and glaring ineffectively at the guards. McKay had stopped visiting because he didn't want to continue bearing the brunt of Sheppard's irritation. Beckett stopped in only long enough to order another test.

He was becoming convinced that a lot of these tests were repeats. He wasn't sick, so what was the hold up? He shoved the laptop off his thighs, caring only enough that it didn't fall off the bed. Damn, but he was bored, and irritated. He closed his eyes, and just thought. He was lying on the bed, and he could feel the weight of the computer against his right hip. The warmth from the machine bled into his skin. He was wearing the scrubs, albeit a fresh pair, and it reduced him to using a blanket. They always kept infirmaries cold. Still, a stubborn streak kept the blanket only to his waist, and the goose bumps on his arms betrayed his discomfort.

He folded his arms, refusing to draw the blanket higher. He was trying to fall asleep, hoping to pass the time faster. They couldn't keep him here forever, could they? A sound to his left drew his eyes open, and he saw Beckett walking in. Beckett, who saw Sheppard's eyes focus on him, and Sheppard could see the doctor fought against turning tail and running.

"Don't you dare," threatened Sheppard, forestalling his attempted retreat.

Beckett paused, barely past the threshold. "Dare what?"

"Leave," Sheppard said, knowing that Beckett knew full well what he meant. "I want out of here, _now_." He swung his legs, away from the computer on his right, and stood firmly. "I've waited. I've submitted to all the tests." He stalked closer to Beckett, who shrunk back. "Enough is enough, I want to go to my quarters, Beckett. _My_ bed. _My_ room."

Beckett winced. He knew the Colonel was losing his patience, but he thought he could put him off for another day. Teyla hadn't reported in since her confrontation with the Chancellor. She'd stayed on Hoff, wanting to do some questioning on her own, and Caldwell had agreed. She hoped to find a weak link to expose whatever the conspiracy was against Sheppard, or maybe the people of Atlantis. The problem with that was that it left Sheppard stuck here, and growing increasingly weary with being a lab rat.

Sheppard wasn't finished with his rant. Pent up frustration bled out into the shortening distance between them. "I've been poked, prodded, pinched, and other things I prefer not to think about ever again. I-want-out." He enunciated the last three words slowly.

Beckett figured the best defense was a good offense. He gritted his teeth, and begged his mother for forgiveness for any potential lies and exaggerations. "And do what, Colonel? Spread any unknown contagion to the rest of the city? Or maybe they've planted a little program in your mind, and as soon as you're alone, you'll set a bomb in the chariot room?" Beckett approached Sheppard, and grabbed a hold of the Colonel's arm while Sheppard remained stunned by Beckett's unusual harshness, guiding him back to his bed. "Son, I realize this is frustrating for you; it isn't any easier for the rest of us. Rodney won't visit you again until you promise to apologize for the boot incident. You've got to be patient," remonstrated Beckett.

Sheppard allowed himself to be led back to his bed, but there he pulled his arm free. "I have been patient," he gritted back. "If it were a contagion, Atlantis would quarantine me."

Beckett shook his head, losing a measure of the sternness. "Only if it were a contagion it recognized."

"You're not wearing a Haz-Mat suit," Sheppard continued logically.

Beckett was standing toe-to-toe with Sheppard, and he knew the man wasn't backing down. He sighed, slipping his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. He dipped his head, "All right. I see what I can do," he offered. "But, you stay put until I get back to you, understand?"

Sheppard nodded, and even hopped back on the bed as a gesture of his compliance. "Tell McKay I'm sorry for the boot," he added. He really did miss the company.

Beckett grunted something that resembled a yes, before he left. After he was gone, Sheppard wondered what Beckett had been on his way to do before he'd waylaid the Doctor.

* * *

"It's standard to apologize to the person you've offended, not relay it third party," lectured McKay, as he walked into the infirmary.

Sheppard grinned, and closed the laptop. "That only works when the offended has enough guts to return to the scene of the crime."

McKay shrugged, and dropped onto the bed near Sheppard. "Would you risk bodily harm again?" He was smiling slightly, letting Sheppard know there wasn't a grudge being kept.

"Please, it's your fault anyway."

"How do you figure?"

Sheppard looked innocently at his pair of combat boots on the floor, next to a chair by his bed. "I told you to duck," he stated.

"Right," McKay snapped a finger into his palm. "I walk innocently into the infirmary, wanting to check on my dear friend, hear someone shout duck, and next thing I know I'm flat on my ass," he grouched. "Carson said it was possibly a mild concussion, you know."

Sheppard put on his best commiserating look. "I heard," he whispered solemnly.

They fell into an awkward quiet, and McKay studied him.

"So, are you all…"

"Where's Teyla…"

They both started at the same time, stopping together. Sheppard chuckled, "You first."

"Just wondered if you'd spun your head three times, or projectile vomited over the guards yet," said McKay.

"Oh, that's funny," deadpanned Sheppard. "I take back my apology."

McKay's lips twitched into a grin. It had been a joke, and they both knew it, but the underlying tension was that everyone was worried something had been done to Sheppard. It was like waiting in the calm before the storm.

"I'm not programmed, or brainwashed," Sheppard said. He knew what everyone was thinking. He had seen the furtive looks thrown his way by the guards, and the infirmary personnel.

"How would you know?" retorted McKay. "Seriously, isn't that the point?"

Sheppard didn't have a good answer, so he gave McKay the only one he could give. "I would know."

Before McKay could argue the validity of his claim, McKay's radio emitted a thick accented voice. "Rodney, you are needed in your lab. There is an annoying…" they both heard a burst of foreign swearing before Zelenka came back. "Come now," Radek said irritably.

McKay stared into the empty space above Sheppard's head, counting to ten. He took a deep breath, and stood up. "I've got to go," he said reluctantly.

"I heard, sounds like fun."

McKay grimaced. "Why do you think I came down here?"

Sheppard smiled at the look of suffering painted across McKay's features. "That bad?"

"You have no idea. Ever since Caldwell arrived, Kavanagh has been 'Colonel Caldwell' this and 'Colonel Caldwell' that. Half the people in the lab are ready to toss Kavanagh overboard, and the other half, Caldwell, just because of guilt by association." McKay frowned as he took in Sheppard's disappointment. Sheppard was trying to pretend it didn't matter, but wasn't doing a very convincing job of it. "I'll come back when I get this smoothed over, no throwing boots, though."

"Scout's honor," Sheppard promised, crossing his fingers against his chest.

McKay looked ready to make a smart-ass reply about him being a boy scout when Radek came back on the radio and started shouting that Kavanagh was going to inadvertently blow up Atlantis if McKay didn't get down there and stop the…well…some Czech swear word. "Go," Sheppard prodded.

McKay sighed, and left, but he offered a dirty look at the guards for Sheppard's sake. He didn't agree with the order to keep Sheppard penned up in the infirmary. He'd argued with Elizabeth, but the order had come from Caldwell, and the buck stopped there. Colonel Caldwell was about as yielding as the Trinium iris they'd had back in the SGC.

Sheppard watched him leave, and picked the laptop back up, and slid it across his lap, lifting the lid. His game of space invaders flashed GAME OVER. He clicked the drop down menu option for start new game, and began punching the buttons half-heartedly.

* * *

"It's been three days, how much longer do you want to keep him confined?" asked Elizabeth. She was staring down the Colonel in his new office. Beckett had been in to see her earlier, arguing Sheppard's case. Sheppard wanted out, and she agreed with Beckett; it was time. For three days he'd been confined, observed, tested, and everything had come back normal.

Colonel Caldwell was sitting in his chair, and returning Elizabeth's hard look right back at her. "Doctor Weir, what would happen if he was programmed? What happens if he leaves that infirmary, and slips loose, only to sabotage the computer system?" asked Caldwell harshly. "You told me yourself that Colonel Sheppard has the most advanced ability using the ATA tech in the city. It would seem to me, that letting him loose, poses a potential danger until we know for certain that nothing was done to him."

Elizabeth folded her arms in frustration, and continued to stand in front of the Colonel's desk. "That's just it, we _don't_ know. You can't expect him to stay confined to the infirmary indefinitely!"

"Teyla is investigating…"

"And that could take days," she interrupted. "Please, let him go. We can keep guards on him."

Caldwell contemplated her offer. "I don't want him to know," he said.

She nodded, surprised at how easy had given in. "Done." It was only after she agreed that she realized it must have been what he wanted from the beginning. She'd been manipulated. She narrowed her eyes, and watched him.

He regarded her coolly, not giving an inch. "Is there anything else, Doctor Weir?"

"No, Colonel," she replied. But inwardly she thought he was a sneaky bastard, and knew she'd need to be careful in the future. Caldwell had his own agendas.

He was waiting for her to leave. She turned sharply, and left, unsettled despite getting what she wanted. At the very least, she'd managed to get Sheppard released. Beckett would be relieved. Now she could only hope that none of them regretted it.

* * *

"You can go," Beckett beamed as he announced the news to Sheppard.

Sheppard sat up groggily from the bed. "Go?" he repeated. He realized the computer was tilted off to the side, and the GAME OVER was flashing again. He propped himself up on his elbow, and rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to wake up. He must have drifted off.

Beckett peered at him with a concerned look, and Sheppard shook off the last bits of sleep. "Go, right," he said hastily. He shoved himself up, shutting the computer off and closing the lid without doing the proper shutdown. He wasn't going to give Beckett time to make any other excuse for him to stay.

Beckett nodded slowly. "But," he held a finger up. "Make sure you are back here tomorrow morning, and Colonel, you are not released to duty yet."

He'd take it. Not perfect, but better than staying here. He shrugged out of the top, and noticed Beckett was still watching him. "Do you mind?"

Beckett rolled his eyes. "Like I haven't seen it before," he said dryly. He'd seen a lot more of Sheppard than probably Sheppard's own mother, especially after that incident with the tic-wraith.

"Probably, but all the same…"

Beckett shoved his hands into his pockets. "Fine, call if you need me," he said, leaving reluctantly. Now that he'd successfully wrangled Sheppard's release, he found himself oddly worried at seeing the Colonel go. What if he'd missed something? He shook his head; he'd gone over everything he could with a fine toothcomb. As far as any test they had, Sheppard was fine.

Sheppard finished shucking the scrubs, relieved to pull on his own clothes, even if he was only going to his quarters and changing into a clean uniform. He buckled his belt, and sat in the chair, pulling on his boots. As he tied off the last string and tucked it into the sides, he felt a lump against his leg.

His hand slipped into his pocket, and he palmed the vial. He stood up, and headed out of the infirmary, his change of uniform forgotten. He didn't notice the guards break away from the door and follow behind him.


	4. 4

**4.**

Teyla shoved the shirt into her bag. They were going home, back to Atlantis. At every turn, they'd been met with a wall of silence or a chorus of 'I know nothing, I saw nothing'. The problem was, Teyla saw through their assertion. She watched the Hoffans refuse to make eye contact, and watched as their faces screamed guilt. This had been planned; she was now more convinced than ever of this fact, but why? She wasn't any closer to finding an answer.

A knock at her door stilled her packing. She approached it, thinking it was probably Sergeant Baker wanting to see if she was ready to go. She opened the door, but was shoved roughly back, into her room. She looked on in stunned surprise as an overweight male Hoffan that she didn't recognize stepped in, and shut her door.

She contemplated calling for help, but something in his posture indicated he wasn't here to hurt her. "What do you want?" she asked.

The man was scared, she could see that now; he glanced back at the closed door, and reached for Teyla's arm, tugging her even further away from the entrance. "If they find me, I'm a dead man," he whispered. Sweat was rolling down his pudgy face. "I know what they did to Colonel Sheppard…"

What he proceeded to say made Teyla go cold.

* * *

Sergeant Walker dropped back, letting Mac take the lead. He signaled Caldwell. "Sir, Colonel Sheppard is heading towards the water reclamation system, what should we do?"

Caldwell had his answer. He'd figured something like this would happen, which is why he wanted the guards trailing Sheppard after he was released. It was one of the few times where he wished he wasn't right. "Continue to follow, do not act unless he attempts anything suspicious, I'll be right there." He cut off the comm, and stood up. First, he needed to collect Doctor Weir and Doctor Beckett. He had a hunch he'd need them.

* * *

Sheppard had the vial in his hand. He had a goal, a mission. He walked woodenly forward. He looked at the line snaking out of the tank, and reached behind it, twisting the valve to the off position. Manual override. He'd already instructed the city to stop monitoring this section of the water system. He twisted the cap.

"Colonel, stop. Hands up, where we can see them!"

Sheppard stopped twisting, and palmed the container, holding it underneath his thumb. He lifted his hands, and turned slowly. Two Marines were standing with their pistols pointed at him, and he had no doubts they would follow through if he made any sudden movements.

"What's up, guys?" he asked innocently.

"Sir, what is in your hand?" asked the guard standing on the left. Sheppard couldn't recall a name. It was one of the new men that had arrived with Everett.

Sheppard opened his left hand, and most of his right. "Nothing," he said.

The guard approached him slowly, reaching for Sheppard's still partially closed right hand. It was his mistake. Sheppard's left hand snapped out, slapping the guard's pistol to the ground, and his right arm reached forward, grabbing the guard's vest and twisting him into a neck hold. The guard's body now covered Sheppard's body, protecting him from an attack from the remaining guard.

"I wouldn't," threatened Sheppard, when the free guard cocked the weapon. "You'll kill your friend."

"Back-up is on the way, Colonel. Give up, and no one will get hurt," cautioned the Marine.

Sheppard laughed unpleasantly. "Right," he tightened his forearm against the other guard's neck. "I don't think so. We do it my way. Back off, or your friend here gets a broken neck."

The guard hesitated. Increased choking sounds from the captured soldier penetrated his resolve. He pursed his lips angrily, _damnit_! Coming to a decision, he backed off. He knew help would be arriving soon, and the goal was to get out of this without any casualties.

Sheppard smiled cruelly. "Good choice." He relaxed his hold on the guard, and that was _his_ mistake, because as soon as the Marine felt the slack, he shoved an elbow against Sheppard's stomach with as much force as he could muster. Sheppard doubled over, releasing the guard.

The Marine, freed of Sheppard's hold, twisted, and followed it up with a two fisted slam to the back of Sheppard's head, just above the neck. Sheppard collapsed to the floor without a sound.

* * *

Teyla rushed up the stairs in the Gate room. She'd left Hoff as fast as possible, but she felt every second, every minute, that it took to get back to Atlantis. She prayed she wasn't too late. She saw the tech sitting at the console, staring at her. "Where is Doctor Weir?" she asked breathlessly.

The technician shook his head numbly. "I…don't know," he answered. "I can page her," he offered.

Teyla jerked her head impatiently. "Do so, now," she ordered abruptly.

"Uh, yes Ma'am," he said uncertainly. It had been a quiet day on his shift, but he supposed that was about to change. "Doctor Weir, you're needed in the Gate room," he announced. He repeated the call.

Teyla peered around the man, looking towards the office. "Is Colonel Caldwell in?" she asked.

The tech shook his head. "I'm sorry, they left a few minutes ago. I don't know where they were going."

Teyla stood impatiently. The tech tried to find something to do while they waited for either a reply, or the Doctor to arrive. Finally, the comm beeped. The tech punched the receive button eagerly. Weir's voice filtered over the system. "What do you need?" she snapped.

His eyes widened. He gestured for Teyla to use his console. She wanted Weir; she could deal with the obviously irate Doctor. Teyla stepped forward, and spoke, "Doctor Weir, I know what they did to Colonel Sheppard, where is he?"

They heard a brief moment of silence before Elizabeth's tired reply came back. "He's being taken to the brig, Teyla. Unfortunately, I have an idea what you are going to tell me."

Teyla stood still. She had been too late. Before she could apologize, Weir continued, "We'll meet you in the briefing room. He did not accomplish what he set out to do. Weir out."

She stared at the gate tech, as if expecting him to explain, but he returned her look with equal confusion. She sighed.

* * *

"So the Hoffans collaborated with the Genii?" Elizabeth said. She looked like she didn't believe it. For that matter, almost everyone grouped at the oblong table had a look of disbelief.

Caldwell was the only one who wasn't quite sure what to believe. "The Genii, weren't they the ones that tried to overtake Atlantis?"

"Yes, they slipped in during the evacuation stage. They would've done it, too, if not for Colonel Sheppard," replied Elizabeth.

McKay wasn't thrilled with his walk down memory lane. "Koyla's still out there, and he's not happy with Sheppard."

Caldwell tapped his fingers against the table. "So it's safe to say he's got a grudge to settle."

"That would be an understatement," said Teyla. "When Colonel Sheppard left him alive on the planet Dagan," she paused, searching for a diplomatic way of speaking her mind. There wasn't one. "It was not the best decision."

"It was his only decision," protested McKay. "Sheppard isn't a cold-blooded killer!"

"According to the report I read, his actions killed over sixty Genii with the push of a single button," Caldwell said. "That is not exactly the actions of a man reluctant to take the lives of others, Doctor McKay."

McKay was shaking his head. "He did what he had to do, that's different than putting the bullet in the brain of an unarmed enemy that you've already conquered."

"Conquered?" asked Caldwell, raising an eyebrow.

McKay looked flustered. Elizabeth intervened, "Koyla wasn't in a position to do anything. Sheppard told me he thought it would send a message that we weren't giving up, but we also weren't ready to declare all out war on the Genii, despite their actions."

"Exactly," agreed McKay.

Teyla didn't agree, but it had been one of a few decisions before the Wraith attack that she and Sheppard had differed opinions on. "Regardless, it allowed the one man who knew more about us than anyone to remain free."

Caldwell agreed with Teyla's assessment. "Do you feel there is a personal component in their collaboration?" he asked Teyla.

She nodded. "I am certain of it. It is no coincidence that the one taken was Colonel Sheppard, and not myself or Doctor McKay," she said. "Koyla has been bested twice by the Colonel. He wants revenge."

"You can't go around killing anyone who might hold a grudge," McKay snapped.

Caldwell looked amusedly at Elizabeth. "He's got a point."

"At any rate, we know how they were able to program Sheppard in the short time he was captured. The Genii are more…advanced when it comes to interrogation," Elizabeth mused, remembering her own brief stay in their hands. "We've got how, and who, now we need to figure out why. Has Beckett analyzed what was in the vial?"

McKay had other things on his mind. "What about Sheppard? Has he woken up yet?"

"Doctor Beckett is currently working on both issues," supplied Caldwell. He swiveled his chair towards Teyla. "Good job on getting the information. Until we know more, there's nothing further we can do."

"You're not going to leave him in the brig, are you?" McKay asked. He hated what had been done to Sheppard, and he knew that Sheppard wouldn't willingly do anything to harm anyone here. With the vial confiscated, he wasn't a risk.

Caldwell didn't agree. "Yes, Doctor McKay, I am," he said. "Dismissed."

Everyone stood, but McKay hung back, pulling Elizabeth off to the side outside the briefing room. "I want to see him," he said, forcing her to listen and not just walk away.

She didn't look happier with the turn of events then he did. "I'll see what I can do," she said. "But Rodney, we don't know what all they did to him. He might not be the same again," she cautioned.

She walked away, heading towards the infirmary. McKay watched her go, his face sober. Sheppard had seemed fine earlier. He would be fine. He had to be fine.


	5. 5

**5.**

Sheppard came to lying on the floor. He was growing used to waking up and not knowing exactly what had happened, but as he opened his eyes, and began to examine his surroundings, he figured this one took the cake. If he was right, this was the brig in Atlantis; the same brig where they'd kept Steve, and later, Bob.

He couldn't hold back the memory from when he'd shot down Bob; first one bullet, then another, and another, and with each strike of metal on flesh he'd felt just one ounce better. He had known Bob wasn't going to talk. He'd pulled the gun because of it, _because_ he'd have a chance to extract his bit of flesh for all the people that had died, and would die, because of the Wraith.

But why was _he_ here? Why was he lying on the ground in his uniform, and why did his head feel like he'd been used as a punching bag? He lifted his head off the floor, and winced at the pain. He twisted his head around, searching for a sign of somebody who could explain what was going on.

His eyes found someone. He squinted in the dark. "Sergeant," he called levelly. "Why am I in here?"

"I'm sorry, Sir, you'll have to wait for Doctor Beckett." The Sergeant continued to look off to the side, avoiding eye contact with Sheppard.

"And when is Doctor Beckett going to grace us with his presence?" Sheppard asked with forced casualness. He'd finished struggling to his feet, and now stood at the edge of the cell, inches from the bars, and facing the guard.

"Feeling out of sorts, are we now?" Beckett said, walking in the door that was situated behind Sheppard. He walked around the outer perimeter of the boxy cell, aware of Sheppard's eyes tracking his progress as he moved towards the guard, and the entrance to the interior of the cell. Beckett nodded to the guard to drop the force field, and to let him in.

"Why shouldn't I be?" retorted Sheppard. "_I'm_ being kept in a cell!"

"And did you stop to think why?" remonstrated Beckett, looking around the cell for a table. There wasn't one. He scowled at the Sergeant, "Why isn't there a table, or a cot?"

The Sergeant flushed guiltily. "There wasn't time, Sir."

"Then make time," roared Beckett. "This isn't a Wraith in here."

"Yes, Sir!" responded the Sergeant smartly. He stepped away from the door and murmured into his radio.

"Thanks." Sheppard stood awkwardly. "Well this is nice," he said.

Beckett grimaced with the distaste of the situation. He would prefer Sheppard be kept in the infirmary, or confined to quarters, but Caldwell was concerned that Sheppard would use his ability with the ATA tech to escape their control. He supposed it was a possibility, though he had a hard time believing Sheppard would actually follow through with something like that. Logically, however, he knew the guards weren't lying about what happened. He had the vial, and he even had preliminary results that confirmed what he had suspected when he'd heard where Sheppard had been confronted.

"It's necessary," Beckett said shortly. A pair of Marines arrived with a cot, table, and chair. As they brought them in to the cell, Beckett focused on Sheppard, looking him over. The tight lines on Sheppard's forehead and around his eyes betrayed the headache he had from the earlier hit that had taken him down. Otherwise…otherwise he looked perfectly normal. "Do you know why you are here?" Beckett asked, moving his bag onto the table as the men retreated from the room. The bars hummed with the re-activation of the field. "Or what you tried to do?" he amended as he began to pull out a blood pressure cuff and stethoscope.

"I didn't do anything!" claimed Sheppard. He was watching Beckett, saw him taking out the instruments for a check-up, and knew Beckett expected him to head for the cot and take a seat, but he'd be damned if he was ready to cooperate. The last thing he remembered…what was the last thing he remembered? He frowned, trying to connect the mental dots. The infirmary…he'd been in the infirmary, and space invaders! He'd been playing a game, and then…then nothing.

"Colonel?" Beckett walked over to where Sheppard was standing, and tilted his head down to catch Sheppard's gaze. "What is it?"

"Something's wrong," whispered Sheppard, slowly raising his face to look at Beckett. "How did I get here?"

Beckett didn't like the change coming over Sheppard. He backed up a step. "Why don't we take a look at you first," he started to say, but Sheppard advanced.

"No," pursued Sheppard. "Tell me how I got here."

"You tried to poison the water," admitted Beckett, when he saw that he wasn't going to be able to put off the man. It wasn't like telling Sheppard was going to change anything; he'd only wanted to delay the inevitable.

The revelation stunned Sheppard. He hadn't expected Beckett to give so easily, and while he didn't know exactly what he'd expected to hear, it sure as hell wasn't that. "I what?" he repeated, feeling slow and stupid.

Beckett sighed. This wasn't going well. "You had a vial," he began to explain. "Preliminary tests show it contained a version of the Hoffan virus. I'm still looking, but from what I can tell, it's been modified."

Sheppard didn't understand. What could the people of Hoff gain by having him spike their water supply, short of killing off at least fifty percent of the expedition's population? "Why?" he said, searching Beckett for answers that the doctor didn't have.

"I don't know. Not yet, at least," he replied. He guided Sheppard to the cot, and pushed him down. Sheppard didn't resist. "You don't remember any of it? You attacked the guards that were watching you."

"I don't remember," Sheppard repeated dully. He was beginning to feel like his life was spiraling out of his control.

Beckett didn't know what to say to make Sheppard feel better about what was happening. Maybe, because there wasn't anything to be said, _terribly sorry_, probably wasn't going to cut it. So, he said nothing at all, instead he went through the motions of the check-up with mechanical precision, made easier by the Colonel's lack of response.

Beckett wasn't surprised to see that the results were normal, and he wasn't happy with it, either. He'd hoped for something to come back high, or low, or upside down, anything but normal. Then he'd have an excuse to move Sheppard to the infirmary, and he'd have some avenue to explore in helping the Colonel.

He packed up his instruments, and gave another long look at the man sitting on the cot. Sheppard hadn't made eye contact, or shown any interest in him since he'd told him what had happened. "You're perfectly normal," he said cheerily, hoping to diminish the pall that had fallen.

"Normal?" reacted Sheppard, not in the way Beckett had hoped.

"Maybe that wasn't the best choice of words," conceded Beckett. "You're healthy, Colonel."

Sheppard didn't answer; instead, he stretched out on the cot, folding his arms beneath his head.

"Right," Beckett said. He grabbed the handle of his bag, and waited for the guard to drop the field and open the door. Once he was clear of the cell, he watched Sheppard, and saw him flinch involuntarily as the guard locked the door, and re-activated the field.

* * *

Beckett stared at the test results, and felt a fury growing down deep in his gut. He'd been through a lot, seen a lot, but it never ceased to amaze him at the inhumanity of humanity. They'd changed it. The Hoffans had changed the vaccine, mutated it into something even more deadly, and they'd done it with the help of the Genii.

He could still see the telltale signatures from his and Perna's work, but now there was someone else's signature added to theirs. The implications of the changes were grave. No longer did it have to be given in an inoculation. Once it was introduced into a population, it would spread like wildfire.

His error had now been compounded through no fault of his own, beyond his initial cooperation- cooperation that had been volunteered by Sheppard himself. He sighed heavily. Past actions couldn't be undone, one had to live with the consequences. He folded the slip of paper, and paged Elizabeth.

"What is it, Carson?"

"We've got a problem," he announced.

* * *

"It will spread like a virus." Elizabeth said, glancing at Beckett to verify what she had understood from their earlier conversation.

Beckett nodded, confirming her statement. "I'm afraid so."

Caldwell wished he knew more about the situation with the Hoffans, and the Genii, but all he had were reports. Elizabeth had arrived a few minutes ago with Beckett, and what they had to say wasn't what he wanted to hear. "How is that possible?" he asked, beginning to give in to his anger over the situation. "You told me it wasn't contagious?"

"And it wasn't, but it's been altered," continued Beckett.

"How is that possible," exclaimed Caldwell. "You told me they weren't advanced enough for this type of development?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "They aren't, but the Genii are."

This wasn't making sense to Caldwell. "But you told me the Genii are very protective over their people, which is how this entire feud began," he fished for answers. "It doesn't make sense that they'd go along with a plan that would effectively reduce half their population?"

"Unless they didn't know," reasoned Beckett. "They could be as much a pawn in this scheme as we've been."

Caldwell began to realize with a sinking feeling that nothing he'd done in his military career could even begin to prepare him for this job. He'd assumed command, knowing it would be a challenge. Taking over from another commander was always a stiff assignment, especially when the leader had been respected as Weir was, but that was proving to be the least worrisome hurdle.

Still, he'd never backed away from a challenge, and he wasn't going to do so now. He stared at the personnel reports on his desk that he'd been reviewing before Beckett and Weird had showed up. Whether the change in command was warranted or not, he had a job to do, and he was responsible for not only the people of Atlantis, but apparently he'd also assumed the mantle of responsibility for the human population in the Pegasus galaxy, the indigent population that couldn't fight or protect themselves from the Wraith, and from the insidious enemy within their own race; the Genii and now the Hoffans.

He realized Weir and Beckett were waiting for him to say something. He set his pen down. He'd been holding it the entire time, and it only now dawned on him that his hand was grasping it so tightly that his fingers ached. "It would seem we have more than one issue to solve," he said.

Beckett and Weir exchanged looks. Caldwell pressed forward. "It's immaterial now that the Hoffans plan failed. Once they realize their _patient zero_ didn't cooperate, they'll move on, and infect other worlds," he stated calmly. "Therefore, we need to develop our own vaccine; an antidote to reverse this virus."

Beckett opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off when Caldwell continued, "And, we need to send a message to both the Genii and the Hoffans, that this can't continue. We're not going to sit back and let them play their games."

"And we need to help Colonel Sheppard," Elizabeth added quietly.

Caldwell stared at her enigmatically. "That too," he said.

"Why don't you ask for a cure for cancer while you're at it," muttered Beckett.

Caldwell pursed his lips together, and Elizabeth wasn't sure if he was doing it to fight off a smile, or a scowl. "If you've got the time," said Caldwell, as he turned his attention back to the files on his desk.

Beckett stared at the balded head, bent over the papers. He thought about arguing the impossibility of what Caldwell had asked, but what was the point? He'd try, and pray for a miracle. Just like every day since they'd arrived in this place. He turned and left. It was going to be a long night.


	6. 6

**AN: Sorry for the delay, and just a small format issue, it won't let me put in E equals mc squared like it did in ms word, so, well, you all know the equation. Rest mass equation, where rest mass energy equals mass times the speed of light squared . **

**6.**

"No," shouted Sheppard. "I'm not seeing the shrink!"

McKay folded his arms, staring down his friend, and teammate. "Do you want to stay locked up indefinitely?" he asked. "Because if you do," McKay gestured at the bars, and the sparse accommodations, "say the word, and we can move your belongings down here," McKay purposefully fixed his look on an area above Sheppard's cot. "You're poster might not stick to the bars, but you can always make a rug out of it."

Sheppard returned McKay's stare, and the angry silence grew. He'd been here for two days, not long in the grand scheme of things, but long enough to fall into deep thoughts, and frustration. "Don't be facetious," he finally said tiredly, breaking off the glare.

McKay followed Sheppard's move to his cot with his eyes, and watched the Colonel sit down. "I'm not. It's called realistic," he strode to the chair, and sat beside him, knowing it would ease the Colonel's nerves if he wasn't towering over him. "Until we know what they did to that head of yours, Caldwell isn't going to let you out." McKay muffled a small snort of mirth. "It's probably the smart thing to do, even if I don't like it." He knew what Sheppard's ability with the ATA tech was.

"_You_ don't like it?" snapped Sheppard.

"That's right, I don't like it," retorted McKay. "And neither does Elizabeth, Carson, Teyla…" he broke off and caught Sheppard's gaze. "Do I need to go on?"

"No," Sheppard said. Game, set, match- he conceded to McKay. Point taken. But damn it, he had a thing with letting people get in his head. It was his; not fodder for files, and reports, and discussion.

McKay sighed. He'd willingly seen Heightmeyer, but he knew people had hang-ups. Everyone had hang-ups, regardless of how rational they were. "She's nice," he offered. "And discrete."

"What can she do?" Sheppard asked. Now that he was allowing McKay the opportunity to explain this idea he and Elizabeth had dreamt up, Sheppard wanted to know what it could accomplish. "How is seeing her going to find out what the Hoffans did to my brain?"

McKay steeled himself. This was the hard part. Getting him to listen was only the top layer of an extremely hard hole to dig. "Hypnosis." He let the word out like a carefully planted bomb, and waited for the explosion.

But there wasn't one. Sheppard was staring out into space. McKay leaned in, waving a hand in front of Sheppard's eyes. "Hello? I said, hypnosis."

Sheppard reached up, and stilled McKay's hand, still staring unfocused at nothing. "I heard you the first time," he replied dryly. "I'm thinking."

"Thinking, as in, 'why yes, McKay, that's a wonderful idea'?" he asked, cautiously. He didn't like it when people didn't react like he expected, and Sheppard had an annoying habit of doing that to him, a lot. He had always thought people could be quantified, little human energy packets of E mc2.

Sheppard chuckled. He knew McKay, knew what the man was thinking, as sure as if he'd spoken every thought and feeling out loud. "Maybe not quiet like that, but essentially."

McKay jumped to his feet, and jogged to the door, waving for the guard to let him out. He wasn't going to give Sheppard time to change his mind. "Great, I'll be right back," he said.

Sheppard nodded. "Not going anywhere," he said flatly, before speaking louder, "McKay," and when McKay paused he continued, "Only you and Heightmeyer, understand? No one else."

"Got it," acknowledged McKay, before hurrying out, off to retrieve the psychologist.

He left Sheppard wondering why he had asked for McKay to stay with him. He guessed he didn't want to be alone, vulnerable to someone else; someone that he didn't trust. He knew McKay would watch his back. McKay wouldn't let them do anything to him.

* * *

Carson muttered to himself as he prepped the slide. He slid it into the metal tongs on the microscope, and peered in. The slide blurred. He was so tired; he couldn't recall the last time he'd slept. 

"You're going at it the wrong way," a soft voice to his left spoke.

Carson lifted his head, surprised. That voice…it couldn't be!

"Perna," he breathed, his hands clenched the edge of the table, as he turned his head, and looked at the woman standing there in her white lab coat, and her elegantly styled blonde hair. He swallowed, stunned by the hurt seeing her caused, even after all this time that had passed. "What are you…?"

"I'm helping you, silly," she chided. "You want to make an antidote," she walked over and looked at the slide. "It's a viral component spliced into a bacterium. Brilliant!" she smiled broadly at him. "I'm surprised you didn't think of this yourself."

Carson blinked, expecting the vision to disappear, but it remained. He didn't know what to do…so he did the only thing that made sense. "I did," he admitted to the apparition. "But I knew it would be dangerous." He moved behind her, leaning in, inhaling. He could almost swear he smelled her perfume. "Too dangerous," he repeated, logically knowing she wasn't really here.

"It is," she said, serious. "This was wrong. I didn't know, Carson."

He was becoming lost in her, this ghost. "Why are you here?" he asked thickly.

The smile again, like liquid sunshine. "I'm here to help you," she beamed.

"Maybe Colonel Sheppard isn't the only one in need of the psychologist," he muttered. But she was so real; the smell…he reached out; a touch, just one small touch…

"Doctor?"

The intrusion shook Carson. He jerked, startled. He snatched his hand back from the now empty air. "Yes?" he answered, his voice gruff.

A young nurse held out a slip of paper. "The latest results," she said, explaining her presence in the now deserted lab. It was late; hell, thought Carson tiredly, it was the next day; early then, not late.

He skimmed the results. Something in his mind responded, _a viral component spliced into a bacterium_, she'd said, and he had it. "I've got it!" he shouted exultantly.

The nurse looked at him worriedly. "Got what?" she asked, hesitant.

He grabbed her arm excitedly. "The cure…the antidote, vaccine…whatever you want to call it!" He realized he'd gripped the paper so tightly it was now crumpled in his hand. He took a deep breath, and smoothed it out on the surface of the table. "Thank you, Perna," he whispered. "Thank you."

* * *

"Breathe deeply, and focus only on my voice," Kate whispered softly. She watched as the Colonel's eyes seemed to accuse her of being behind the conspiracy that landed him in this situation. She'd asked if he felt comfortable in the chair, or if he'd prefer to lie on the bed. He'd told her he preferred to not be here at all, and then he'd chosen the bed by virtue of stretching out on it. 

"You like to surf; picture yourself riding a wave, close your eyes, and focus on my voice…" she droned on, giving him instructions in monotones, and watched him slide into the hypnotic state.

"Now, Colonel Sheppard, I want you to think of a safe place," she instructed. "Tell me about the safe place."

McKay watched from his perch on a metal stool that had been brought in for him to sit on. "Is he already under?" he hissed, surprised at how fast it'd happened.

Kate frowned in his direction, but kept her attention on Sheppard, who was smiling. "I'm flying…" he said dreamily.

"Good," she said softly. "Now, I want you to go to your safe place when I tell you too, okay?"

"Okay," Sheppard answered dully, the smile drifting away as he lost hold of the flying sensation.

"We're going back to when you were on Hoff, do you remember that Colonel?"

Sheppard's brow knitted with concentration, but his eyes remained closed. "I remember," he answered. "They wouldn't listen. Did it anyway…Perna," he broke off and winced visibly. "My fault, told them Beckett would help."

McKay was beginning to rethink being here. He didn't figure that Sheppard would want him to know everything he kept inside.

"No, not the first time," Kate spoke gently. "The second time you went to Hoff, Colonel. Go back to that time."

"I don't want to go. Chancellor Druhin can't be trusted," said Sheppard. "I told Caldwell this is a mistake, but he won't listen."

"I know, but you went," Kate told him, "and I need you to remember what happened after you arrived. You left your belongings in your room, can you go from there?" She tried to steer him to the right memory.

Sheppard's eyes moved beneath his eyelids. "I told McKay I'd meet him at the dinner; told him I was tired, and was going to take a nap," he answered. "But Teyla knew I wanted to do some recon of the building. They're up to something, and I'm going to find out what," he shifted from past tense to present tense.

"I knew he was lying," accused McKay. A sharp look from Kate silenced any further outburst.

"Continue, Colonel…you left to look around?" she prompted.

"I didn't find anything. I was going to meet McKay, and go to the dinner, but…there's someone coming behind me!" Sheppard's voice rose as he experienced the moment of his abduction again. "They've blinded me, I can't see! Damn it, there's at least two, I think three, and I can't break free…"

"It's okay…you're fine, Colonel. They can't hurt you; it's only a memory. Pull back from what is happening, and tell me what you see…what is happening to Colonel Sheppard?" she separated his memories from him, hoping he could relate the events with a third person perspective.

Sheppard's forehead creased with pain. "They are taking him down. He fell to the ground…"

McKay's jaw tightened painfully.

"…cold on his arm…sharp…drugged…"

Kate drew a deep breath. "It's going to be okay," she reassured Sheppard, but she wasn't sure if it was for his benefit that she spoke those words. "What happened when you woke up?"

Sheppard's face eased from the pain of the abduction, to one of confusion. "I'm in a chair…I can't move; hands, feet, they've got me strapped to the chair…I don't know where I am," he moved back into the first person narrative.

"Is there anyone with you?"

Sheppard's head jerked negatively. "No…wait, someone is coming…I don't know him," he explained. "He's got a vial, he's telling me it's the galaxies salvation but he won't explain what that means."

Kate steeled her nerves, she had a hunch this was going to be where it started to get rough. She looked over and noticed McKay was watching Sheppard. She saw, for a moment, a glimpse inside the stand-offish man, saw how much this gruff Air Force soldier had come to mean to the sarcastic physicist. In her sessions with McKay, she had found that area to be the most protected, and the one that caused the most strain.

"I won't do what they want, and the man is angry," continued Sheppard, reminding Kate just why she was here.

She assured him, "They can't hurt you. You're here with us, this is just a memory."

Sheppard's hands moved restlessly against the blanket, but in a limited way, making her think he believed he couldn't move freely. She wished this wasn't necessary. "Tell me what they did next," she urged reluctantly.

"There's a machine…it's big. The man is telling me that he's sorry that they have to do this, but he's not really sorry," Sheppard recited the events, and with each word, his voice slipped lower and became more fearful. "It's going to hurt, the man says, and he's smiling."

Sheppard clutched the blanket, and his eyes snapped open. He looked towards McKay. "Tell them to stop. I don't want to be hurt," he pleaded.

McKay lurched forward, but a swift shake of Kate's head stilled his progress. He didn't know if Sheppard meant the Hoffans, or what they were doing now.

"Colonel, do you remember your safe place?" she worked hard to keep her voice soft, and neutral. "I want you to go there, right now," she ordered.

Sheppard's hands relaxed, and his eyes drifted shut again. The worry erased from his body, and both Kate and McKay knew he was flying.

McKay stood up, and looked at Kate frankly. "I can't do this…I've got to go," he admitted. "There's an experiment in the lab…"

Kate didn't move from her chair. "Sit down, Rodney," she ordered. "He trusted you enough to want you here, and you aren't going anywhere." She did fix an understanding smile on him. "He needs you, just now, when he was moments away from whatever terror they did to him, he looked for you-not me, but you." She knew McKay would see the important truth, and do the right thing.

The two were as unlikely a pair as ever there was. McKay was Sancho to Sheppard's Quixote, and then they'd swap, neither one content with the role life had given them. Maybe that's what drew them together; the irony of being more than what life had said they were, maybe that's the place where the friction between them alternated between insults and affection- when their roles flipped, and they needed a defense against the helter skelter world, because this wasn't what they were told they were. A soldier that was the scientific key, and a scientist becoming a soldier, and even saving the soldier's life by the gun in his hand.

McKay sat back down, stiffly, but down nonetheless. "How much more?" he asked. He wanted to help Sheppard, but this was proving to be more of an emotional toll than he'd realized when he agreed to stay.

"I don't think it'll be long now," she told him quietly. She addressed Sheppard, "Colonel?" she called.

"Mmmm?" Sheppard said.

"We've got to go back now. We need to know what those men did," she explained.

"I don't want to," Sheppard said wearily. "It's bad."

"I know it is," she soothed. "But we have to; after they brought in the machine, tell me what they did to Colonel Sheppard."

She slipped him into third person again, hoping he'd fall into the impersonal narration and distance himself from the actions that had been committed against him.

It didn't work. "They're shoving me in, and I'm fighting. God, no!" Sheppard shouted, again his muscles tensed, and his back arched off the bed. "They are strapping me down, and shoving me in this tube. I'm scared…it's humming, and lighting up…and…oh God!" Sheppard screamed, and his body convulsed.

Kate jumped up, along with McKay. "Get Beckett down here, stat!" hollered Kate.

Sheppard's body stilled under theirs, and he started talking. "Take the vial, dump the vial in the water supply. Come back and report on the situation when you have accomplished your mission." Sheppard recited the commands like he was reading a page off a book, except his voice was expressionless, dead. He continued, "The vial is nothing important. It is nothing important."

Kate and McKay exchanged startled looks. Kate relaxed her hold against Sheppard's legs. He had stopped moving entirely, and was deathly still. "Colonel, is that what you were to do?" she asked.

Sheppard's face was bathed in sweat, and his mouth contorted. He tried to talk but couldn't form words. McKay shook his head angrily at Kate. "Enough," he said. "We got what we needed."

Kate agreed. "Colonel, I want you to count back from three, and when you wake up, you'll remember everything we talked about, do you understand?"

Sheppard's head jerked slightly, affirming he did.

"Three, two, one…" she said, and he counted down in tandem.

Just as he became aware, the med team arrived. Kate and McKay stepped back, letting Beckett and the medic's access to Sheppard.

"He had a seizure of some kind," McKay told Beckett.

Beckett didn't look happy.

McKay watched them begin assessing Sheppard, and he couldn't help but think that some days it seemed like the universe was heaping the dung on them faster than they could crawl out. This was definitely one of those days.


	7. 7

**7.**

McKay poured a steaming cup of coffee, while saying a mental thank you for the new wave of supplies that had been shipped from the SGC. He took a seat, asking Elizabeth as he did so, "Coffee?"

She shook her head. "No thanks," then looked around the table at Colonel Caldwell, Doctor Beckett and Teyla. "Anything else to add?"

McKay took a slow sip and smiled.

"Rodney?"

"Hmmm?" he looked up, and found all eyes fixed on him. He sat the cup down, "Yes, I mean no…nothing." He thought it was a rhetorical question; it wasn't like he wasn't aware of what was going on around him…

"Doctor McKay?"

He realized Caldwell was now waiting for him to say something. "What?" One cup of coffee, that's all he'd wanted…

"Do you agree that Colonel Sheppard told everything pertinent under hypnosis?" repeated Caldwell impatiently.

McKay felt his stomach turn at the memory, and pushed the coffee away. "I'd say so, yes," he answered more harshly than he probably should have.

"Doctor Beckett, do you feel that Colonel Sheppard presents a security risk at this time?" Caldwell pursued his line of questioning.

Beckett seemed surprised by the question directed at him. He looked to Rodney and Elizabeth, and saw their hooded emotions. He caught sight of Teyla's pinched face, and recalled her own brush with being a security risk. He turned back, realizing that Caldwell was waiting and had seen him grasping for straws. He sighed. Was Sheppard a risk? He'd heard the results of the hypnosis. He knew that the Hoffans had programmed one more assigned task to Sheppard. There hadn't been any chance of attempting a deprogramming because he'd reacted physiologically to the memory of the initial programming.

"Aye," he finally admitted. "I do." If Sheppard were let loose, there was a real possibility that he'd tried to return to Hoff, and he couldn't be held responsible for his own actions.

Caldwell smiled tightly, pleased at the Doctor's ability to give an honest assessment. "But you said you have the cure?"

"Possibly, I believe so," he said. "It's still being tested, but early results are promising."

"How much longer?" asked Elizabeth.

"A couple hours, if the latest results come back good."

"Colonel," Teyla said, pushing a thick folder towards Caldwell. "These are the photographs we managed to take when we returned to investigate."

"Good, Teyla, you and I will meet with Lieutenant Dockers and review the plan," Caldwell stood from his chair, and lifted the file. "And I suggest, Doctor," he said, walking towards the doorway, "that once you've got the antidote, you release the Colonel as soon as he's physically up to it."

Teyla followed Caldwell out of the briefing room, leaving the other three sitting at the table, each one debating their own internal thoughts. Elizabeth stood first, and leaned towards McKay, murmuring softly into his ear, before leaving. Beckett hoped they knew what they were doing. This whole thing had the potential to blow up in their faces, and take a good man along with it.

McKay hesitated before leaving. "You don't think this will work," he accused.

Beckett was usually neutral when it came to the plans. There was always a plan A, and a B, but what happened when you were reduced to a C? He'd watched them scheme, he'd played his roles, but he'd never shouldered so much of the burden before. If this didn't work…

"No," he answered truthfully, and squeezed out the door, past McKay, and headed to the infirmary, to check on the object of the meeting and strategizing.

* * *

"Teyla, is your team ready?" Caldwell asked over the radio. 

Teyla looked to the Lieutenant, who nodded briefly. She hunched behind the cargo crowded into the Jumper. The camouflage make-up itched, and she wondered not for the first time how this could possibly work. "Yes, Colonel, we are in place. Has Colonel Sheppard been released?"

"Not yet," answered Caldwell's voice. "Doctor Beckett said it should be within the hour. Be ready, we do _not_ want to get caught with our pants down, is that understood?"

"Understood," Teyla replied, shifting her knees to try and get in a more comfortable position. An hour…did this Colonel realize how hard it was to stay crouched behind these cargo nets?

* * *

"I'm free?" Sheppard asked, incredulous. "Just like that?" 

Beckett and McKay were standing like a pair of guilty lovebirds. "Just like that?" responded an astounded McKay. "Sheppard, you've been the subject of every test known to man, spent a combined week in the infirmary and incarcerated in the brig. Would you like more?"

"Why do I have the feeling I'm the rat in the maze, being released, and watched to find out if I can find the cheese at the end of the corridor," said Sheppard. "Or, if I get to the end and find out I'm going to get zapped for turning wrong."

Beckett shifted uncomfortably, folding his arms, and grabbing onto the stethoscope around his neck with one hand. McKay, though, snorted loudly. "Rat, weasel…rodent. If you are comparing yourself to vermin, maybe you should stay," deflected McKay. "A trained chimp, that might be…"

"Monkey see, monkey do…" sung out Sheppard, heading for the exit. He knew something wasn't kosher, but he'd be their little rat, and wait to find out what performance was expected. "Besides, you're imminently more qualified than I am, you've got more chest hair," Sheppard tossed out a parting dig, as he waltzed out the infirmary.

McKay glared at the doors as they slid shut after the Colonel's exit. He turned to Beckett, who shrugged, "He's right," he said, and headed into his office. A few moments later, Beckett called, "Rodney!"

McKay gave one last disgusted look at the air in general, before trailing after Beckett. They had a job to do. They'd just sent the rat into the maze, and now they had to get the cheese. Sheppard's almost psychic use of the analogy had hit home. Boy was he going to be pissed when he found out just how right he had been…

* * *

Sheppard's first destination was his quarters. He was going to take a shower, a real, bonafide shower…with nobody hovering. He was walking towards the corridor where his room was, but then his feet started moving towards the command center. He had somewhere to go, and he needed to make sure he could get there…

* * *

The tech's console beeped. He entered a command, and tapped his radio, "The sheep is leaving the fold," he announced. 

Elizabeth's voice responded. "Sheep?"

"It was McKay's idea," Hartford explained brusquely.

"It's a perfectly good code name, Elizabeth," interrupted McKay over the comm. "Sheep…Sheppard." There was a brief laugh, then a pause. "It's logical…" he said defensively.

"Mark, you released the controls?" asked Elizabeth, purposefully ignoring McKay.

"Released, and…" Hartford paused, watching the event horizon burst forth from the gate. The Jumper lowered from the bay above, and he made a show of frantic button pushing in case Sheppard was watching, or was even aware of what was happening. They'd found the device Sheppard had planted, and removed it, but now they had to let him go. "He's gone," he announced, as the Jumper's ass-end slid into the blue liquid.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth addressed McKay. "Are you and Doctor Beckett ready?"

"Just call me double-O geek," cracked McKay.

Silence.

Then, "You've been waiting a year to say that, haven't you?" asked Beckett.

"Yes," an unrepentant McKay replied. "Yes, I have."

"Just go," a tired Elizabeth ordered. God bless the children, the elderly, and every adult that had to deal with Rodney McKay, she thought, but still, she said a quick prayer to the powers that be to keep them all safe.

* * *

"Tell me, Colonel Sheppard, did you release the vaccine into your water supply?" 

Sheppard eyed the man defiantly.

The man sat at a small metal table that was situated in front of Sheppard, who was shackled to the same chair he'd been in before. He knew that now, he could remember it, because Heightmeyer had released those memories. But he couldn't remember how he'd wound up back here. Everything was blank after he left the infirmary. He'd been heading to his room…

"I understand that you have questions," the man offered genially. "And I propose you consider the situation you find yourself in."

Sheppard remained quiet.

The man sighed, and leaned back in his chair, pushing one hand on the armrest while the other twiddled with a pencil or pen that was on the table. "Let me tell you a little story," he began. "A few months ago, a group of individuals contacted my government. You see, they had heard about the Genii, and in a round-about way, heard about the particular grudge the Genii have with the people of Atlantis," the man paused and pointed the pencil casually at Sheppard, "That would be you."

He reached for a pitcher of water and poured himself a glass, taking a slow drink. He set the glass down, every action measured and intentional. "These people had a very interesting proposal. It was beneficial, not only to the Genii, but ultimately, to everyone around."

Sheppard's mouth tightened, but he wasn't going to allow himself to be goaded into responding.

A small smile from the man proved he knew Sheppard was fighting to keep quiet. He continued, "But we needed an effective method of dispersal," the man pushed away from the table, and stood up, approaching Sheppard, and leaning in behind Sheppard's back, lowering his mouth to within an inch of Sheppard's head. "And then the Hoffan's came up with a plan that was stunning in it's simplicity, and beautiful in the irony of it; the injustices reigned upon the Genii would be somewhat atoned for."

"What better form of spreading the ultimate Wraith-killing virus, than the Atlanteans, hopping from planet to planet, and practicing their self-contrived do-gooding, while managing to muck up everything and everyone, in their path."

Sheppard flinched.

The man held his head close to Sheppard's for a moment more, hoping the Colonel would give in to his anger, but when Sheppard didn't, he pulled back, stifling his disappointment.

He began circling Sheppard. "We know you returned to Atlantis; we know you had the vial. We also know that by the very nature of you returning, you had to have delivered the contents of that vial into the water supply," his voice had risen from a quiet speech to a shout at the last word. He slammed his hands down on the arms of the chair, one on each side of Sheppard, and put his face in front of Sheppard's. "It is pointless to refuse to talk, we already know everything we need!"

Sheppard raised his head, and looked the man in the eyes with steely determination. "Then tell me this…if you know so much, why are you asking me?"

The man pulled back, and Sheppard thought he was going to step back to his table, but he spun around, and slammed a fist into Sheppard's head, snapping him back with painful force.

"Disrespect will not be tolerated," he said calmly, pulling his shirt back into place.

Sheppard's head dropped back forwards. A rat…he was a rat in a maze…

AN: Just a short note about using the Jumper. I can't recall if they specifically showed the gate in the episode Poisoning the Well, so for the sake of my plot I'm using the Jumper, and if I'm wrong, repeat three times, "It's only fanfic, she does not mean to blasphemy!"

Edited AN: I had to change a name, for those of you who caught it, kudos to you...I accidentally used Peter Grodin...big whups on my part, but I fixed it...what can I say except old habits die hard and I'm still not happy over that little thing and hoping for some miracle (though I know there won't be). 


	8. 8

**8.**

McKay stepped out of the wormhole and onto Hoff, Beckett on his heels. Teyla and four Marines stood waiting. Two Hoff guards were to the side, trussed up like Thanksgiving turkeys.

McKay peered at the men who were squirming behind their gags, and pulling uselessly at the bonds. "That was…quick," he mentioned.

Beckett ignored the tied men. "Have you located him?"

Teyla nodded. "We've tracked him to this building here," she pointed to a diagram on the handheld LSD. "Doctor McKay's program is proving to be effective. If they have him, they do not realize he has a device on his person."

"Of course it's effective," McKay said dismissively. "When you get to him don't tell him…"

"I understand," Teyla interrupted. She knew McKay was worried about Sheppard's reaction when he realized he'd been used. She also believed that McKay was failing to take into account that Sheppard was a trained tactician. He would realize the necessity of the actions that they had been forced to take. "Is your safety off?" she asked, looking at McKay's pistol strapped to his leg.

McKay glanced at the weapon. He reached down and fingered the switch, sliding it to off. "It is now," he answered. He turned to Beckett. "Ready?"

Beckett nodded, patting his vest to reassure himself that the vial was where it should be. "Would no be an option?" he muttered.

McKay rolled his eyes. "No."

Teyla gestured for the Marines to move out. "I believe this is a time where the saying 'Good luck' is appropriate," she said.

"I think a better saying would be 'Shoot first'," admitted McKay.

Beckett grimaced at the mercenary saying, but Teyla inclined her head, agreeing with McKay. "Then…shoot first," she said, smiling, before following the Marines in the direction the LSD was indicating for Sheppard's location.

Beckett was staring at McKay. "Shoot first?" he asked irritably.

McKay started off in the direction of the Hoffan's water supply. There was a plant within the city, which worked well for their plan. They were going to 'do unto others'. "It's a basic premise of survival," he said. "Besides, you know they would."

Beckett did know that. He wondered how that was supposed to make him feel better.

* * *

"Colonel, I do not know what you hope to accomplish by this continued refusal to cooperate. It's a simple question; did you empty the contents of the vial into the water supply?" The man was now sitting on the edge of the desk, but in the front, so he was only an arm's length from Sheppard.

Sheppard's refusal was written all over his face. He didn't have to say anything.

The man tapped the pencil that was in his hand against his thigh. Sheppard watched him carefully, though one eye was now swollen, and made it hard to see. The man had been unpredictable. He'd swung at Sheppard without reason, while other times, even when Sheppard had provoked him; he'd left him alone.

"Do you know why I have not told you my name?" asked the man abruptly.

Sheppard sensed a dangerous change, an undercurrent that cried out a warning. He shook his head. "No," he answered.

"Because the act of using a name makes you human," the man answered. "You aren't a human, Colonel. You are an animal; a trained animal that has a purpose, and once that purpose is complete, we don't need you anymore."

"Then kill me now," replied Sheppard coldly. "Because I won't cooperate." He wasn't going to let this guy use mind games. He hadn't been afraid of dying in a long time. Sheppard saw that he'd surprised the man, but the surprise was quickly covered, and replaced with a soft, slow smile.

The man set the pencil down, and he did so very carefully, taking twice as long as the task required, steadying it from rolling off the table. He stood up, and he looked at Sheppard as if they were old war buddies swapping stories from the good 'ole days.

"No," he said. "My government has…other plans…for you." The man headed towards the door, and Sheppard didn't know if he'd given up on the interrogation, or if he was trying to throw him off balance again.

Before he could figure out which one, the door was slammed open, and Teyla with a group of soldiers spilled in. The Marines were on the man, and had him to the ground and cuffed before Sheppard could blink. Marines could be ignorant Jarheads, but damn if they weren't good to have by your side when the shit hit the fan.

Teyla rushed to Sheppard, and started trying to figure out how to release his arms from the restraints. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"No," he said, and looked down at his body. "I'm strapped to a chair, Teyla."

Her hands stilled on the buckles, and she looked at him, really looked at him. She saw the bloodied lip, swollen eye, and the growing bruise on his forehead. She swallowed. "I am sorry…"

"Never mind," he grunted. "Just…get me out of this chair."

As he stood, he flexed his muscles, trying to ease the stiffness. He walked over and looked at the man on the ground. "Funny thing about animals," he said casually, reaching across to the Marine, and taking the pistol from the soldier's hand. "They tend to kill things that threaten them." He leveled it at the man, who was staring at Sheppard, and trying hard not to show his fear. He was failing.

Sheppard cocked the weapon, and took aim, squeezing the trigger. At the last second, he altered his trajectory, and the bullet screamed above the man's head, and embedded into the wall behind. Sheppard flipped the pistol, and now holding the barrel, he handed it back to the Marine. "Lucky for you, I'm not an animal," he said grimly, and walked away.

* * *

Sheppard was quiet on the walk back to the gate. His mind had been piecing together the parts of the puzzle. He'd been set-up, bait for a trap…but what was the trap? They'd known the programming would take him back to Hoff; what the Hoffans had meant to accomplish by that was clearly nothing. It'd been a caveat to the Genii, a way of paying them back for their help. Payment rendered for services; one human life. He supposed that was a small price to pay for a race that was content to sacrifice half of their own people in the fight against the Wraith.

When they arrived at the gate, the two Hoffans were still sitting, tied up, and looking worn out from trying to escape. Teyla had made sure that wasn't going to happen. Speaking of Teyla, Sheppard watched her motion the Marines to check out the Jumper and make sure everything was as it should be.

He was still watching the Marines when he saw the Genii soldiers appear from around the back of the Jumper. One of the front Genii soldiers fired, and a Marine dropped. Before Sheppard could holler to hold their fire, Koyla stepped out, and pointing the wicked looking pistol that Sheppard had come to hate, told the other soldiers and Teyla to drop their weapons, or he was a dead man. Koyla's gun was aimed at his head, and though it was a farther shot than the other soldiers, Sheppard had no doubt that Koyla wouldn't miss.

"Stand down!" he shouted, wincing as the movement pulled on his facial injuries.

The Marines hesitated, but Koyla's finger tightening on the trigger convinced them of his deadly intent. They lowered their weapons reluctantly.

"Smart choice," said Koyla. He walked steadily towards Sheppard. "We meet again, Colonel Sheppard."

Sheppard fought down the urge to punch Koyla in the face. The second he moved, he'd be shot, though he doubted Koyla would try to kill him, regardless of what he wanted everyone to believe. That'd be too quick to turn back the tide of the water they had accrued under their bridge. "Couldn't stay under your rock for long," observed Sheppard. "Nice little trick you planned with the Hoffans. What did you promise them?" he asked aggressively. "A six foot sleeper sofa in the ground? After they helped you, of course."

Koyla simply smiled. "Chancellor, you can come out now," he called over his shoulder, before turning back to watch Sheppard. The way he said it, Sheppard knew there wasn't any respect between Koyla and the Chancellor. That just goes to show that you can have something in common with even your worst enemy. Not that Koyla was the worst…but he was coming pretty damn close.

Chancellor Druhin stepped into the clearing. There must have been a pack of them hiding behind the Jumper. An ambush. They'd expected a rescue; counted on it, even.

"You've got what you came for," Druhin addressed Koyla. "I believe that completes the terms of our agreement."

Sheppard thought for a moment that Teyla was going to shoot Druhin, despite the risk it'd pose. He watched her glaring daggers at the Chancellor with barely suppressed rage. But instead, she sneered and said, "Did the Chancellor tell you the truth about this vaccine, or did he give you the same lies he's told everyone else, including his own people."

Koyla's eyes narrowed. Chancellor Druhin backhanded Teyla across the mouth, startling both her and Sheppard. He hadn't thought the old man had it in him.

Before Druhin could speak, Koyla asked, "What truth would that be?" and though he pretended amusement, Sheppard saw through his act. Koyla was a deadly opponent, and crossing him would get you nothing but grief. It was kind of comforting to know that Druhin was about to experience that.

"The vaccine has a fifty percent mortality rate," Sheppard answered for Teyla, who was busy wiping the blood away from her mouth.

Koyla was definitely interested.

"He's lying," blustered Druhin. "We fixed that!"

"No, you didn't."

All eyes swiveled to the right of the Jumper. Doctor Beckett was standing deathly still, and he had his nine mil pointed straight at Druhin, and McKay was beside him, his own pistol drilled onto Koyla.

Sheppard grinned. "Looks like we've got ourselves a Mexican standoff," he said.

"Doctor McKay," greeted Koyla. "Now all we need is Doctor Weir and it'll be just like old times."

The sound of the Stargate engaging signaled a change in the status of the situation. Everyone in the way quickly moved, weapons adjusting as the bodies changed positions. Koyla still had a bead on Sheppard, Beckett on Druhin, and McKay on Koyla. The Genii soldiers had the three remaining Marines pegged. It was a powder keg with a short fuse, and the gate might be the lighter.

The event horizon exploded out, and settled back just as quickly into the undulating blue puddle. Not long after it'd settled, Colonel Caldwell and Doctor Weir appeared, and behind them, came a team of Marines…Sheppard lost count after twenty because he wanted to enjoy the look on Koyla's face…and Druhin's.

Sheppard leaned forward, just enough to speak softly only to Koyla, but not enough to induce him into pulling the trigger prematurely. "This is what we call checkmate on my world," he said, and despite the cost of the pain, he couldn't keep the smirk off his face. "Chalk another one up for the 'do-gooders'," he said. He was the only one who'd understand that reference, but it still felt good to say it.

Colonel Caldwell approached Koyla, and without so much as a by your leave, he took the weapon from Koyla's hand. He turned to address the Genii and Hoffans who were standing around, uncertain of what to do now.

"My name is Colonel Caldwell," he said loudly. He tossed Koyla's weapon at the Genii's feet. "It has recently come to our attention that the people of Hoff collaborated with the Genii to spread a lethal virus across the galaxy."

"I am here to tell you that you failed," he snarled, and let his anger loose. "Make no mistake, we are not your pawns to use in the game of war against the Wraith. If you _ever_ use our people again, I will not hesitate to order a reign of complete and utter devastation upon your worlds."

Caldwell stopped, and he directed attention towards Doctor Beckett. "I believe you have something important to add, Doctor," he said.

Sheppard wasn't sure he'd ever seen Beckett look so cold. "Right," Beckett began. "As we speak, the antidote to the virus is spreading throughout your water supply. Not only did we prevent the release of the toxin in our own system, but also, using that sample, we devised a cure. You will _never_ terrorize anyone else with this biological terror," he promised.

McKay waved his pistol in Druhin's direction. "Oh, by the way, don't bother trying to stop it," said McKay. "I've changed your water system while we were at it. It's stuck in a self-clean cycle that lasts…" McKay looked at his watch, "…about thirteen more hours. What do you think, Carson, should it be well dispersed in that amount of time?"

Beckett smiled. "I think so, Rodney. You know," he said, turning his attention on McKay, "You really are quite brilliant."

"Why, thank you," McKay said with matching exaggeration to Beckett. "You're not so bad yourself."

Caldwell's look silenced both men. "Because we have a common enemy, and because I'm in a generous mood, I'm giving you the opportunity to walk away," Caldwell said magnanimously. He looked pointedly at Druhin. "There's a saying on my world; all's well that ends well. In light of the fact that we turned off your little project from ever working again, we'll call it even. You have the chance to stand back, and we'll leave. Nobody has to die. Try anything, and I assure you, the ground will drink far more Hoff and Genii blood, than any of our own," he promised, and he gestured for Teyla to move into the Jumper and begin the dialing sequence.

The Genii soldiers and the Hoffans gave up their weapons, and were herded back, away from the Jumper and the gate. Two Marines kept their P-90's leveled at the group, while the other soldiers returned through the gate to Atlantis. Teyla, Beckett and McKay were in the Jumper, which left the two Marines, Sheppard and Caldwell still standing outside, with Weir hovering at the edge of the hatch.

Sheppard began moving towards the rear of the vehicle. The plan was for everyone but the two Marines to enter the Jumper, which would then fix the weapons on the Genii and Hoffans, allowing the remaining men to backtrack through the gate. Once they were through, the Jumper would follow.

"Till next time, Colonel Sheppard," called Koyla.

Sheppard stopped. He turned, and looked Koyla in the face. "Next time only one of us is walking away," he promised.

Koyla nodded. He was smiling, but it was a smile that wasn't a happy one, merely content with the status quo. The day would come when they'd have it out, and what it was between them would end, because one of them wouldn't live to see the next day. "Agreed."

Caldwell had watched the interaction. As Sheppard disappeared into the Jumper, he grabbed a Genii pistol from the ground, and strode to Koyla's side, pressing the muzzle against his temple. "Stay away from Sheppard," he ordered. "You kill him, and I promise, I'll finish it, and you'll wish you'd never been born." Koyla hadn't flinched. Caldwell fought against the impulse to pull the trigger and be done with it, but the conversation about Sheppard in the same position came back to him. He dropped the gun, disgusted, and walked to the rear of the Jumper, surprised to see Weir watching him.

As they walked into the Jumper, they missed Koyla's words, "Too late, Colonel."


	9. 9

AN: The comment Koyla made, "Too late" referred to wishing he'd never been born. I say that because Koyla's racked up quite a run of screw-ups, and a lot of his own people's blood is on his hands. As commander, he bears the responsibility for all those that died during the mission to take over Atlantis, including those sixty that splatted on the shield, and then the one left that believed in him died on that puzzle...so I think he's got a lot of issues with what's happened.

**Epilogue**

Sheppard stared at the computer screen, trying to figure out what to put next. The warm glow from his bedside lamp made him drowsy, and he fought the urge to put this off for tomorrow. They'd been back long enough for him to get cleared, after which, he'd retreated to his quarters. He wasn't sure how long it'd be before McKay found him, but…

…the pounding on his door told him not long enough. "Come in!" he called, knowing exactly who it was. He wasn't surprised.

McKay walked in, and peered over his shoulder at the computer screen. "Mission report?" he asked. "Already?" He eyed Sheppard. "That's a new record."

Sheppard closed the lid, looking over his shoulder at McKay irritably. "It's not a new record. I did the one on the mission with all those kids with a faster turn-around," he said.

McKay snapped a finger in his palm. "Oh, right," he commented. "So seeing kids killing themselves bothers you more than being set-up by your teammate."

Sheppard realized this was going to be a while. He sighed, and swung his legs around so he was facing McKay instead of speaking to his computer, although the computer would probably be less aggravating. "Are you insinuating that I only finish reports in a timely manner when I'm upset?"

McKay bobbed his head, searching for a diplomatic answer, and couldn't find one. "Basically, yes," he said, stepping farther into the room. "Genius, remember?"

"At physics, yes…" Sheppard stated, kicking his feet up on to the bed. "People…not so much."

"And you are so much better," McKay cracked. "Sumner, Weir, Everett, Bates, Kavanagh…" he looked at Sheppard, "…just to name a few of the people that you've had issues with."

Sheppard narrowed his eyes at McKay.

McKay tapped a finger on his chin. "And that Athosian…what was his name?" he asked, looking towards Sheppard.

"I don't remember."

"My point…"

"…is taken. Anything else, or did you come here just to gloat?"

"Actually, I came here to make sure I wasn't going to find something scary in my room," admitted McKay.

An eyebrow went up. "Why would you find something in your room?" Sheppard asked, confused. "And, for the record, Sumner had a chip on his shoulder from before we met; Weir knows little about the military, but she's learning, Everett was the same as Sumner, and the same end result…Bates is security on steroids, and Kavanagh hates you more than he hates me."

"I thought there might be some latent resentment because we set you up," said McKay. He stooped down, and took a seat on Sheppard's bed. "Kavanagh hates me?" he asked, bewildered.

Sheppard thought it was a good thing he'd taken those Tylenol earlier. Practicing preventative medicine. He'd been fairly certain McKay would show up with a typical load of emotional baggage. For such a sarcastic, arrogant, self-pretentious little man, he sure needed a lot of reassurance that all was right with his little slice of the world. Sheppard had been on to him from the get go. McKay wasn't any of those things, but he was a good actor.

"Maybe hate is a little harsh, let's just say he suffers from bouts of inadequacy. Inferior species," Sheppard confided. "And latent resentment? How many sessions have you had with Heightmeyer?"

McKay opened his mouth to reply, then stopped. He seemed to think for a moment, before looking at Sheppard. "Huh," he said, and got up, heading for the door.

"Huh?" repeated Sheppard.

"Nothing, Colonel," McKay said, looking back over his shoulder. He had one foot out the door. "See you…" he smiled openly, relishing in the simplicity of what was. "…in the morning," he finished. And the door swished shut after McKay, darkening the room as the light from the hallway was blocked.

Sheppard continued to stare for a few minutes, and then he turned back around and lifted the lid on his computer. _The Genii interrogator began to ask if I had completed the programmed mission…_ he typed out the words. He sighed, better to do today, what you'd rather not do tomorrow…

* * *

"Do you think he's a risk?" asked Caldwell.

Doctor Weir was sitting across from Colonel Caldwell. It was quiet, late into the night for the city inhabitants. They'd taken to meeting at the end of the day, reviewing civilian and military affairs, and getting everything straight with each other. They were doing a dance, and Caldwell wasn't always sure he was the lead. Effectively, command had been given to him, but realistically, he was the commander of the Daedulus, and as such, he might be called away, and he needed to know she could step in. She'd done it for a year, under more difficult circumstances.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No. Kate seemed certain that they didn't do anything else to him…" she trailed off. No, that was wrong. They'd done more to him, that much had been obvious by his beaten face.

"No more programming," Caldwell supplied, knowing Weir's thoughts.

She nodded. "Yes, he wasn't missing any time from the second interrogation." She didn't have much experience with this area. She wished she hadn't gained any at all.

Caldwell looked down at the pile of reports they'd already gone over. They'd discussed the problem with food shortages in the mess hall; civilians were hoarding certain food items in fear of being stranded from Earth again. They'd gone over an issue with military members requisitioning more field packs than required, and Elizabeth suspected it had something to do with the rubber gloves, and duck tape.

Caldwell had been inscrutable during that portion of the conversation, and he knew Elizabeth had a hunch that he'd known what was behind the increase in requisitions. And then…then they'd moved onto the big topic. Sheppard.

"Thank you, Doctor Weir," he said. He picked up a pen, and opened a separate folder he'd been working on before she'd interrupted him. Not really interrupted. He'd known she'd be showing up soon.

She took the hint, and stood up. "Good night, Colonel," she paused, and waited for him to look up. "Thanks," she said.

He nodded curtly, and she left, a little disappointed because he didn't say more. She'd offered a crack in the wall, and he'd given her plaster. He didn't want to get too close.

He pulled his eyes away from the empty doorway, and looked at the form in front of him.

**DEPARTMENT OF THE AIR FORCE**

_THIS IS TO CERTIFY THAT_

_THE AIR FORCE COMMEDATION MEDAL_

_HAS BEEN AWARDED TO_

_LIEUTENANT COLONEL JOHN SHEPPARD_

_FOR MERITORIOUS SERVICE_

_16 JULY 2004 TO 22 JULY 2005_

He signed the certificate. He could only hope that the next ceremony he had scheduled wouldn't be postponed because his officer had been kidnapped, programmed, and beaten.

* * *

McKay sighed with relief as he turned the corner and saw the door to his quarters. After talking with Sheppard, he'd gone to his lab; his only intention had been to make sure the experiment he'd set up was running like it should. More than anything, he wanted to sleep. He'd gone for days with nothing but a short nap before the Wraith invasion, and he still hadn't been able to shake the fatigue. He'd read that sleep debt couldn't be taken care of like money in a bank. You couldn't make a deposit and a debit, and balance in the long run. Chronic sleep deprivation took its toll, no matter what you did.

His door whisked open, and he all but jumped in. It was his fault. He should've gone straight here. Once in his lab, he'd tweaked one thing, and then it'd led to another, and before he knew it; four hours had passed. It was a bad habit.

He looked longingly at the shower, but turned away. Morning. He was too damn tired tonight. He shucked his clothes, stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt. He flipped off the bedside lamp and made a mental note to quit leaving it turned on. He was grinning like a cat that'd eaten the canary, already imagining how soft and inviting that bed was, and how good it'd feel lying down and just sleeping. No worries, no fears…at least for tonight.

He pulled the cover back, fumbling in the dark. He slid into bed, and just as his body began to touch the sheets, he felt it. It was cold, clammy, and all over his bed. He jumped up, reaching for the light, and a sweat broke out. What the hell was in his bed? Was there some new bug problem he hadn't been briefed on?

His hand finally found the light switch, and he stared at the bed, dumbfounded. Strewn all over his sheets were pieces of crumbled cheese…

"Colonel!" The shout reverberated through the halls.

Two doors down, a figure in the dark smiled. Rat in a maze, indeed…

THE END


End file.
